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thespianbooks · 4 years

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A Court of Nightmares and Starlight //Chapter 9//

(Chapter one) (Chapter two) (Chapter three) (Chapter four) (Chapter five) (Chapter six) (Chapter seven) (Chapter eight) (Chapter nine) (Chapter ten)

(tags: @thron3ofbooks, @df3ndyr, @courtofjurdan, @art-e-mis, @herondamnn, @the-third-me, @im-still-trying-here, @emikadreams, @paytin77, @mis-lil-red, @sleeping-and-books, @lucieisabooknerd. Let me know if you would like to be added!)

A week was all Azriel needed to gather the information we hoped wasn’t true. However, after the first few days, the spymaster realized he would have to gather intel on those closest to Keir without arousing suspicion. When low-level sentries turned up without any knowledge, Azriel moved onto interrogating the stewards' personal army of Darkbringers. Together, he, Cassian and Rhys were able to interrogate the captain of Keir’s army—Rhys wiping his memory clean after every session. He hated to do it, but after gathering details of Keir’s plan and his alliance with Kallon, he knew it was necessary.

There was indeed a coup rising against the Court of Dreams.

We filled Mor and Amren in immediately after Azriel broke the news to us, but decided it was best to leave my sisters unaware—for now. Nesta was finally in a good, albeit still cold, place after the war that took place a decade ago and Elain was also finally returning to her normal self; who she used to be before being forcefully made. My sisters were healing, and the last thing I wanted was to reopen their old wounds by revealing that their lives were once again at risk. Nesta, as observant as ever, knew something was amiss but thankfully didn’t press for any information. For now, and until we had a set plan, we could leave them in the dark.

I did my best to hide my worries in front of them, instead allowing Elain to fuss over me and the baby while Rhys and his brothers gathered intel. With all the anxiety of the coup keeping me on edge, I hardly noticed that my previous symptoms weren’t affecting me as they had before. Granted, I was still so fatigued that I slept in until noon and my nausea still plagued me from time to time; at least I was finally starting to feel some relief, which reassured everyone—especially Elain. Now that I was feeling better, she began begging to help plan the nursery. Years ago, before the completion of the construction on the estate, she asked what we should do for the room attached to mine and Rhys’s suite. I originally wanted that room to be our nursery, but at the time I decided to make it into a sitting room. Knowing that an empty nursery sat just beyond the double-doors in my suite was too painful at the time. So, in the meantime, I wanted to make some kind of use for it; despite Rhys and I hardly ever even using it anyway.

After telling Elain where I wanted the nursery, she focused all of her energy into creating the perfect space for the baby. While the Illyrians focused on gathering the information from the Court of Nightmares, I did my best to shift my attention back onto my pregnancy. At first, I went with Rhys to Hewn City to be present for the interrogations with the captain of the Darkbringers, but we hadn’t taken into account the effect winnowing would have on me during my condition. With my powers being so drained, I couldn’t do it myself, so Rhys had winnowed us in. Upon arrival, I had nearly fainted in my mates’ arms. Alarmed, he winnowed us back to Velaris, causing me to actually faint. Once I regained consciousness, a guilt-ridden Madja was there and informed us of that unfortunate side-effect she forgot to mention at our previous appointments. In her defense, said side-effect didn’t usually develop until later in pregnancy, but thanks to my tendency towards extreme fatigue, it developed sooner. There was no explanation as to why winnowing was so taxing on a pregnant female, but Madja theorized that whatever magic it originated from was the culprit.

We decided then that he would go with Cassian to Azriel’s interrogations of the Captain, and once they had the information we needed, we would schedule our official visit to Hewn City. Fortunately, Madja explained that as long as I gave myself at least an hour rest between winnowing—including some recovery time after the initial trip, that it would be safe. A part of me was grateful that I didn’t have to be there for the interrogations, because after every session Rhys returned physically and mentally drained. Even as he recounted every detail to me, I couldn’t imagine the burden and the guilt weighing on his shoulders. The Night Court was his home for centuries; he made many painful sacrifices for the sake of his people. While he did his best to separate himself from the Hewn City, they were still his people; still his court and his ancestors' court. As High Lady for over a decade, it hurt deeply to imagine the threat of a civil war, especially for the innocents here in Velaris. As High Lord for as long as Rhysand was, I knew the pain was worse for him.

“You don’t have to do this every night you know,” Rhys drawled quietly from his place in the tub, summoning me back from my thoughts.

He was leaning on the edge with his chin resting over his crossed arms while I gently scrubbed at his delicately powerful wings. I smiled at his comment, continuing to clean the dirt and debris off his wings. After the first few days of seeing how drained my mate was, I took it upon myself to spoil him with a hot bath—together, to unwind while I cleaned him.

“You won’t let me do anything else since I got pregnant, the least I can do is take care of you,” I replied, dabbing at the other wing with a soft washcloth.

“That’s precisely why. You’re pregnant, and it should be me cleaning you,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at me.

I rolled my eyes, “I’m not the one doing all the heavy lifting.”

“I beg to differ,” he said as he glanced at my belly, still a small swollen mound.

I tried not to smile. “Your son isn’t that heavy, yet. I’m growing a baby, but you’re,” I paused, not wanting to bring up the ugly business of the day during the time I dedicated just for us. “Doing everything else…”

He was quiet until I finished cleaning his wing and turned to face me before cupping my face in his. “You’re working just as hard as I am Feyre, on top of being pregnant,” he said.

I gripped his wrist lightly, “I know that, but just like you’re taking care of me, I want to take care of you too. This time is for me just as much as it is for you.”

His smile was crooked as he responded, “Fair enough.”

I returned his smile and leaned in to give him a quick kiss. We stayed silent for the duration for our bath, not wanting to disturb our peace, but as soon as we were back in our bedroom, I couldn’t resist bringing up our upcoming plans for our visit to the Court of Nightmares.

“What time are we leaving tomorrow?” I asked as I pulled out a light nightgown from my dresser.

Rhys sighed, “After lunch. Cassian and Az want to go over the reports and statements from Keir’s general. We’re trying to piece together a timeline, and Azriel will go alone to finalize details with him while we’re at court.”

I nodded, sitting on the edge of the bed after slipping on my nightgown. Now that we had most of the information we needed, tomorrow we would travel to the Hewn City and announce my pregnancy. This would be our way of reminding Keir who he served and would continue to serve. We’d solidify our reign by furthering Rhys’s lineage.

I watched as he dried himself off and changed into his own night clothes, a simple pair of black shorts, and smiled as I imagined what our son might look like at his father’s age. Would the image the Bone Carver gave me continue to evolve to resemble Rhys? Would he have some semblance of me as well? Regardless, I dreamed of him growing to look and act like his father. But the thought of my son one day being High Lord, of having to put on the same cruel façade as the rest of us, made my heart clench and Rhys noticed it in my face. He perched on the space in front of me and gingerly placed both hands on my ever-swelling stomach.

“We’ll teach him well. After all, you had a pretty good teacher, if I do say so myself,” he said with a smug grin.

I rolled my eyes, “Maybe he’ll inherit my humility, because you’re hopeless.”

Rhys threw his head back with a bark of laughter before taking hold of my face to capture my lips in a deep kiss. He held me there for a few seconds, resting his forehead against mine.

“We won’t expose him to the Court of Nightmares until he’s ready and comfortable with it. I won’t put any pressure on him, I promise,” Rhys reassured.

“I know you won’t,” I sighed. “I just...can’t picture that yet. I think.”

“Well we haven’t officially met him,” Rhys said with a smirk. “We’ll take it one day at a time.”

I nodded and looked down at my stomach. “For now, I guess you have no choice but to be part of the act, but daddy will make it up to you,” I said with a smile and looked back up at Rhys, who had visibly stiffened at the new word I referred to him as.

He mouthed the word silently as I grinned and brought his hands back to my stomach, “That’s what he’s going to call you, you know.”

He nodded, matching my grin with a wicked one and wiggled his eyebrow, “I wouldn’t be opposed to you calling me that once in a while either.”

I laughed as I shoved him away, his laughter matching my own as he tackled me onto the bed.

Rhys and I stood alone at the gates outside the throne room in the Hewn City; Mor, Cassian, and Azriel already inside waiting for us at the base of the dais. They had gathered all the citizens of the city inside, on the order that their Lord and Lady were making a notable appearance today. I stared at the dark, cruel, scaled beasts carved on either pillar and ran my hands over the gentle swell of my belly. While getting ready this morning, Rhys pulled out a delicately midnight blue, floor-length, long sleeved gown fashioned of tiny sparkling crystals made to resemble lace. I nearly sobbed when my mate revealed that it was a maternity gown his mother made for me.

The impossibly soft fabric hugged my every curve, the patterned lace forming a deep ‘V’ shape over my breasts and opened in the back, allowing my tattoos to be on display. The sleeves capped at my wrists, the lace blending perfectly with the tattoos on both arms. More importantly, the gown hung over the prominence of my stomach; accentuating it enough to send our message without words. The High Lord and High Lady of the Night Court were expecting.

A dangerous announcement to make so early in my pregnancy, but a necessary one thanks to the current looming threat. While we initially feared it would enable Keir to push his and Kallon’s plans into motion sooner than we hoped, now we had our timeline and knew what to expect.

“Ready to be wicked?” Rhys purred as he rested a hand on the small of my back, jolting me from my thoughts.

Glancing again at the beautifully dark and brutal carved beasts on the gates, I nodded with a smirk and turned to him. “Let’s go.”

Both straightening to our full height, Rhys moved his hand to hold mine up as he escorted me into the throne room as the gates groaned open to reveal us to our court. The gathering crowd grew eerily quiet as Rhys and I ascended across the dark marble floor. Then the gasps came as they slowly, one by one, took notice of my stomach.

Though my shoulders were already squared, I tilted my chin up a little higher as the new weight of their observations fell over me. Over the decade I had gotten used to their stares, their murmurings, every time Rhys and I visited. This time was different. A pregnant female was rare and seeing as it had been centuries since a child was born into the ruling family of the Night Court, their gaze almost felt...scandalous. My façade remained as solid as ever as Rhys escorted me to our twin thrones, the crowd ceasing any whispers of my condition as we turned to face them. I sat first, but Rhys remained standing as his eyes met with Keir’s. The male stiffened the second he saw my belly and by the murderous look on Mor’s face, standing at the foot of the dais with the two Illyrians flanking her sides, he must have revealed his immediate disgust.

I could feel Rhys’s front cracking a bit, his dark powers slowly filling the room with shadows as he stared down the steward—who, thankfully, wasn’t sneering this time as he stared back.

“Bow,” was all Rhys said, struggling with the effort to reign in his overprotective instincts from misting Keir on the spot.

While the crowd moved immediately at his order, Keir did so reluctantly, Mor’s mother at his side and following his lead. I sent a gentle wave of my power down the bond in an effort to calm my mate. Don’t let him get to you.

He didn’t respond, instead tightening up his veneer, shadows dissipating, and sat in his throne before waving an idle hand to the court. “Rise,” he commanded.

The crowd moved together as one, and he waved a hand nonchalantly in dismissal; allowing them to return to their business. Keir dismissed his wife and remained across from us before clearing his throat. “I see congratulations are in order,” he commented, his sneer returning as his eyes shifted from our faces to my stomach.

I couldn’t help the protective hand I placed over it, wanting desperately to shield my child, but I instead moved my hand to the top—just below my bust line, emphasizing it more.

“Indeed, though you don’t actually mean it, do you?” Mor drawled, her voice and face fiercely calm.

Keir ignored his daughter and returned his gaze to Rhys, apparently choosing to outright ignore my presence as well, “I take it this means your lineage will pass onto the child?”

“Did you not expect my mate and I to produce any offspring? That I would simply pass my crown onto someone who wasn’t of my blood?” Rhys replied, keeping his stare dark.

Keir shifted on his feet, “I was always under the impression that a powerful High Lord such as yourself would choose not to procreate, why create any direct competition to your rule? Just take a look at the Autumn Court; so many sons all vying for the same throne by any means necessary, including murder.”

His words dripped with disdain, his insinuations mocking. “And yet you chose to try and secure an alliance with the court you warn us of now. From the look of it, you rather idolize the idea of a son overthrowing his father, or vice versa.” I replied, my tone as icy as my mask.

Keir’s shoulders stiffened at my words, his formidable gaze meeting mine. Through the bond, I could feel Rhys’s dark shadows creeping in the corners of the room. Mor and Cassian watched us, their stares deadly and ready to intervene. Azriel was already gone to attend to his mission while we remained.

The steward tilted his head forward in a slight bow, finally acknowledging me. “I would never presume such a thing, milady. As always, I am at your service,” he said, his voice tight.

It took all of my strength not to scoff at his words or snap his neck. Instead, I slowly stood from my throne, leaving my hand on the curved apex of my belly. “My son will inherit this very throne. And if neither I nor my mate grow weary of your existence by then, you will serve him as well.”

“I’m sure your son will rule just as sufficiently, my lady.” He bit back.

The aura in the room shifted as Rhys’s dark shadows were overpowered by my own. I blasted out dark talons of my power and sank them into Keir’s mind, painfully seizing him in place as I took a slow step onto the foot of the dais just a few feet away from Mor and Cassian, who now held their breaths as they watched me. Rhys remained in his throne, his own dark power emanating with mine as I felt a silent nod of approval down the bond.

My heart pounded in my chest from the effort of my display of power, and I felt my knees shake a bit as I continued staring at Keir with an icy smile. “My son will be more than sufficient; I promise you that. As you said, he's the son of a very powerful High Lord. I should also remind you of the power of your High Lady. With the combined powers of all the High Lords in Prythian, including your High Lord, just imagine what his powers would be like? Won’t that be a magnificent sight to behold?”

I tightened my grip on him, and he did his best not to cringe in pain as he managed to hiss, “Yes, milady.”

My power slipped from him immediately as I was unable to hold on, my forehead gleaming with sweat, and it took me a few silent deep breaths before I smiled cruelly. “That’s good to hear.”

Rhys was at my side in a second as my knees trembled again. The exertion it took to intimidate Keir was draining, much more than I had anticipated. I was grateful for my floor length gown hiding my trembling legs as Rhys perched his hand on the small of my back.

Are you okay?

Yes, I just need to sit down. I reassured.

We’re leaving now, don’t worry

Keir was catching his own breath as he stared us down. As much as I didn’t want to reveal any weakness, neither did he. After a minute, he straightened again and tilted his head towards Rhys in a bow. “Is that all you needed milord? Your visit was last minute, and I was in the midst of gathering your reports.”

Azriel had showed up only seconds prior to Keir speaking, giving a silent nod to me and Rhys, indicating he gathered the last of the intel we needed. Rhys waved an idle hand at Keir, “The High Lady and I wanted to share our news and be on our way. Go. Continue to serve me as you have,” he said as he began escorting me back towards the gated doors, Mor, Cassian, and Azriel trailing behind us.

We stopped before stepping into the frame, looking back over his shoulder at Keir--who remained at his same spot before our thrones. “Unless, of course, we grow tired of your existence,” he drawled before we continued out the doors.

The minute we were out of view of him, and the rest of the court patrons, he scooped me up into his arms and flew us into the palace above the mountains, the others right behind us. Amren was waiting in the open hall, seated on a settee, but popped up immediately when she took in my pale features.

“What happened?” She asked, but Rhys ignored her, sitting me gingerly on the settee and kneeling before me to check over my condition.

“I’m fine,” I reassured him and the others as they gathered around me, the jasmine scented breeze already doing wonders to soothe my tired body as I breathed deeply. “That took a lot more effort than it used to, that’s all.”

Mor sighed in relief before grinning smugly, “You did a damn fine job though, the look on his face was priceless.” she boasted.

Cassian crossed his arms over his chest, “I have to admit, you even intimidated me a little bit.”

I smiled tiredly as Rhys stood, facing them. “It intimidated him for now. Maybe that’ll be enough to stumble his plans with Kallon for a while. That alliance explains why he’s been more and more arrogant these past years, but our news of the baby today threw a wrench in their plans. A temporary one at least.”

“Did you get everything you needed?” I asked Azriel.

Everyone turned to the shadowsinger, who nodded. “I went over our timeline with the general, he confirmed the details, but revealed one more possible player.”

We all paused, and Rhys frowned, “Another alliance?”

Azriel nodded, causing Cassian and Mor to curse. Amren crossed her arms, “Let me guess. Beron?”

He nodded again, and Rhys cursed as I sighed. “He really wants that damn alliance with Beron, doesn’t he?” I asked.

“Did the general know what Beron’s role in all this is?” Rhys asked.

Azriel shook his head, “He only knew that they’ve been exchanging letters. No one seems to know what the letters say, or any other context, but it's rumored that it has to do with the coup.”

“We need to keep interrogating the general,” Cassian said. “He’ll find out eventually, and we need him to keep relaying information.”

Rhys nodded in agreement. “I’ll keep my grip on his mind, making sure he forgets but also start leading him to inquire about the letters.”

“I can get one of my spies to keep tabs on Keir,” Azriel insisted, but Rhys shook his head.

“This is a better way in. We can’t let Keir know we’re onto him. We already have your spies trailing Kallon and monitoring the camps in the mountains. Kallon thinks it’s part of our normal rotation. If Keir notices the same presence, he’ll connect the dots.” He explained.

Azriel and Cassian nodded in agreement. “So, what do we do now?” I asked, and one by one everyone took notice of my hand idly caressing my stomach.

Now that the Court of Nightmares knew of my pregnancy, word would spread quickly over the entire Night Court, including the Illyrians. Those behind this rising coup would find a way to regroup and create some new plan of action, that was guaranteed. The news of a potential new alliance with another court meant that their numbers were even greater now. My eyes met with Rhys’s as we both realized at the same time what our next move was.

“We need to call on our friends for an early summit meeting.”

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5-falsehoods-phonated · 3 years

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Overgrown Metal

Series Summary: Almost two decades ago, the fae rose up from beyond the veil with technology far surpassing the human race, quickly taking over after laying waste to nearly everything in their wake. Now eight paths cross to right the wrongs on both ends, working to uncover secrets that would have rather stayed hidden

Chapter 6: In Search of a Market

Tws: brief mention of panic, if there are others to tag please let me know!

WC: 2766

General taglist (ask to be added or removed): @im-an-anxious-wreck @logans-library @janus-is-an-adorable-snek-boi

Leaning his cane carefully against the outer wall of the building Hyden settled down on the ground slowly and began arranging the sticks he had been picking up into a pile. Logan followed not far behind, sighing in relief as he slid off the heavy pack and gently placed it beside him on even ground. The last thing he needed was for it to tip and have to rearrange everything if his samples shifted around.

Hyden looked up from his work to eye the pack in annoyance. “We’d go a lot faster if you hadn’t brought your entire barn with you.”

“We’d also go faster if-” Logan cut himself off from snapping something he’d regret, cranky and tired as he was throwing insults about something no one could change was not a line he would cross.

Hyden, stubborn ass that he was, decided to dig. “If what Logan?”

“Don’t.” He reached forward to place his hand on the pile, moisture collecting around it that was ficked into a container before he placed a finger near the pile again. There was a muted snapping sound as a single spark crackled in front of the shriveled wood, immediately catching and spreading to make a small fire for the night. It was hardly even dark yet but it was always good to stop early if there was a good resting spot to be had, especially with how unpredictable things could be the farther from the forest they ventured.

“I’m not stupid, Logan. But-” He held his hand up to cut the other off from whatever he was to planning to retort with. “I understand. Even if it is still an ungodly amount you took the bare minimum to continue your research. I’m only concerned about being caught out here, either by guards or beasts.”

They were both tired and on edge, running away from both the forest and avoiding whatever mech beasts they could until they found a better way to carry Logan’s portable, hashed together lab. It had been a few days since they had left and they had done nothing but walk, taking as little breaks as possible to cover as much ground as quickly as they could and they were both starting to feel the effects of it, Janus because of his leg and Logan because he simply wasn’t used to travel. He had stayed in the farmhouse for so long, becoming complacent in its relative safety that the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind to be ready to pick up and leave at any given moment. He only hoped he truly had grabbed everything he would need and wouldn’t be missing anything later when they needed it. Speaking of which-

“It isn’t what you're used to but this should hold you over until we can get somewhere that I can make more salve.” Passing a bottle of arthritic tylenol to the other he made a mental note to keep an eye out for the herbs he would need; he had been going to go on a trip soon to replenish his stock but they had left before he got a chance. Hopefully whatever he could scrounge up would be enough for now.

“Thank you.” They sat in silence, just staring into the dancing flames. Logan wanted to say something but really didn’t want to bring up another argument, content enough to wait for them to warm up before pulling anything out for dinner. They couldn’t cook anything for fear of the smell attracting anyone who might be close if they fire didn’t do it already, but preserved bread and some nuts were just as good...for now.

Hyden shifted into a more comfortable position, wincing slightly before settling his chin in his hand. “Either you start talking or I do and I’m willing to bet the last thing you want is news from the Court right now.”

Logan shuddered to think of the chaos it had most likely dissolved into by now, considering the state he had left it in. No, he definitely did not want to know what they had been doing all this time- for now at least. It was always best not to talk too openly about the affairs of the fae out in the open. “No, I was mostly wondering where we could go to stock up our supplies. We’ll need to soon depending on how far out we need to go before we’re safe.”

“Logan.” He looked up to see Hyden’s confused expression. “You do realize we’ll most likely never be able to stop right? Unless you want to go back and gain freedom somehow with brute force, but they aren’t going to stop looking just because you moved out of the forest. Your research isn’t exactly...encouraged.”

“It never was.” Logan mumbled, idly throwing a small stone into the fire to watch as the dirt it was covered in flared before soot began to coat it instead, pointedly ignoring the look he was getting.

“You don’t even know that you’ll find what you’re looking for.”

“I know enough to suspect and with the way things- Hyden those things were dead. They were hastily constructed, poorly made machines that could barely imitate the wobble of a toddler if left to their own devices. And then all of the sudden they were up and running and attacking like it was instinctual! We hadn’t even programmed that in yet.” Logan ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “It needs to make sense and my hypothesis is the only one I can think of-”

“You honestly think animals are running in little hamster wheels inside them to make them do things?’ Hyden smirked at the deadpan stare he received.

“That is not what I said and you know it.”

“Isn’t that why when they attack they still eat? To feed the animal inside?”

“Hyden-”

“I’ll stop.” He chuckled at the scientist's sour expression. “But honestly, animals being preserved inside for energy? I don’t think they’d be capable of such a thing in such a short time span.”

“At the level of desperation they were at before I left I wouldn’t put it past them. The beasts have the instinct to hunt and fight just like any other animal would- the only difference is they have specific targets in mind when they do it. I can’t fathom what else they could have done unless they were working on a secret program that I had no idea about- which is highly unlikely considering how high up in the project I was.” Sniffing indignantly Logan passed a few pieces of the crunchy bread to his companion, already missing his usual meals and wishing more than anything they were far enough out that they could catch and cook something.

“In answer to your earlier question,” Logan flushed with the realization he had forgotten what they had been originally talking about. “There’s a few settlements underground- some quite impressive- that we might be able to find to get more nonperishable items to have until we can get far enough away that trapping and cooking wouldn’t be an issue. We just need to find a river.”

“A river?”

Hyden nodded. “They’re used somehow to power the city. They’re humans, but they can be clever at times.”

“They’re just as smart as anyone else, we just beat them to the stupidity of ruining the planet.” Finishing his dinner Logan sighed. “The sooner we figure out how the beasts work, the sooner we can shut them off and lower the Court’s defenses. They weren’t relying on anything else when I was there.”

“That’s your plan? Shut down whatever gets in the way and just waltz your way back in?” Hyden snorted. “I’m sure they’ll all adore the scientist that abandoned his post coming back to give them a stern lecture on the importance of ethical science.”

“I’ll have you know I have a bit more tact now that I’ve spent some time away.”

“Oh honey, I love you so much but you blew holes straight through buildings and ran in a straight line through the forest to escape.”

Flushing, Logan looked away as the other laughed quietly. “It was a flight response and I didn’t think pulling the emergency evacuation switch had actually worked!”

“It was cute. Very subtle and very you. Though I do wish you would have waited for me, I would have loved to see you running through snap explosions like a dragon learning its magic for the first time.”

“It was a straight line!”

“Logan a building fell over sideways because you blew through an entire support wall.” Hyden’s eyes crinkled with a fond smile. “That pout definitely helps your case.”

Hurrying to unfold his arms he took a few seconds to move oxygen away from the fire, letting Hyden rearrange the sticks so they’d stay as lit embers to keep them warm until they fell asleep. He yelped as his blanket was thrown in his face, taken out of god knows where just to spite him. Shooting the other a withering look he didn’t end up seeing he curled onto his side and sighed. Another night spent outside and another day spent walking in a random direction. Hopefully they’d come across a town soon.

He really hated the dry bread.

-----

“Wait Roman, is that it?” Virgil pointed to a spot in the middle of the river they had been following. The subtle line of foam could easily be missed if you weren’t looking hard enough but he and Roman had spent almost their whole lives learning to look for these subtle hints a town was nearby.

“Finally! Okay keep going this way, you circle back the way we came and look.” So saying Roman hurried over to where the line was and began walking out to the surrounding field while Virgil turned to look out from where they had already passed.

There wasn’t a clear agreement on what kind of settlement was better: one that was above ground with tall, thick walls to try and hold back the forest and mechs, or ones made underground that people hoped the forest would grow right over- and seeing how the mechs had never been seen digging into the ground there was little fear of it being destroyed. Underground settlements however, obviously didn’t see the sun like the ones above did, so they used water instead. The little line of foam signaled that water from the river was being redirected to a system of water wheels for hydroelectric power for the city. To keep it from flooding or corroding, the system was often just beside the river on the other side, where there would be a subtle exit for water to escape if the system failed. On the other side was the actual entrance, another hidden passage that would lead underground to the levels of the city beneath it. All they had to do was locate and identify the passageways and they’d be able to get in, get to the market to trade and get back out hopefully without too much hassle. It was a system that after years of traveling together they had perfected, however rocky their beginning had been.

He heard a shout from Roman as he was poking around in some grass, sighing in relief when he saw them waving him over. Readjusting the heavy pack he walked up to where there was a bump in the grass, almost like the ground had a pimple. Toeing around the edges however he could feel a thin seam that when lifted revealed a ladder about a foot away from the top.

“The entrance on the first try!” Roman declared triumphantly.

“Yeah now I won’t have to hear you complain about wet boots and pants the entire time we’re here.” Virgil teased. If they were unlucky enough to find the exit first, where there was just a straight drop to the water systems, they’d have to cross the river to find the entrance instead. The past few times had been like this with Roman complaining about being wet and both of them shivering miserably through the market the entire time. These trips weren’t fun to begin with but it added another layer when their clothes stuck fast and the cool air of the caves did nothing to dry them faster. Ignoring Roman’s pout he dropped down and began to descend.

The air immediately cooled as he surrounded himself with earth Roman shimmying down above him and shutting the entrance, encasing them in darkness. Taking a steadying breath he made his way down carefully, counting softly as he went so Roman would know when to step down. He was always very grateful the holes were wide enough to fit both them and their bags since dropping them down first wasn’t an option. The tunnel began to lighten the further down they went and Virgil let out a breath as his feet finally touched solid earth, reaching a hand out to steady Roman as they made it the rest of the way down as well. Gripping Roman’s hand tight to his so they wouldn’t get separated he squared his shoulders and narrowed his eyes into the meanest glare he could muster, tugging up his hood and mask and stepping forward towards the light.

In most underground cities the main markets were on the first level. A seemingly endless amount of stalls and shacks set up advertising a variety of goods and services. Further to the sides had buildings for general maintenance where workers that handled the waterwheels and power lived...as well as other services that required walls to pay for. The second level was mostly housing with buildings set in place for doctors offices and more formal stores if you had something to pay the price with. There were also the occasional restaurant and place of worship and even a school if the city had resources and time for it. If and when these kinds of settlements had a third level- most didn’t for the sake of time and integrity- it would be where more housing and the darker market was set up. Typically normal people wouldn’t be carrying around mech parts to sell, as being a Hunter wasn’t exactly the safest job to have. To make sure civilian numbers didn’t dwindle since they were low enough as it was, selling mech beast parts was typically banned, though no one would question you if you just happened to have them and weren’t trying to sell them.

They had heard a while back about a settlement further out with a thriving black market that used the metal and gears from the mechs to make prosthetics and sometimes weapons. Since mass production of anything was a no-go with the way the world was, this person was absolutely flourishing in their business, even if it was kept on the down low so as to only attract the attention of people who would be buying and selling rather than investigating. This is where they were headed to sell the parts they had been able to gather, eager to finally get a good price for everything and get enough provisions to get back on the road. Weaving their way through a sea of people and following the shotty directions they had been given a few weeks back they finally stopped at a building tucked innocently in a far corner of the marketplace, a small sign out front advertising medical care. Virgil looked to Roman and nodded, moving behind them as they approached to keep an eye on the surrounding area. Being this deep in the city was dangerous; if they were recognized here they’d be hard pressed to get out in time before they were caught, the thought of which had Virgil’s heart hammering in his chest as Roman gave a few sharp raps to the door.

He shifted his pack as footsteps were heard banging up to the door that opened moments later to reveal a tall, rather lanky man with wild curly hair and a neatly kept mustache. The shop owner opened his mouth to speak but stopped before he let a word out, squinting his eyes and staring at Roman hard. Virgil felt his heart beginning to beat faster, muscles tense and ready to run as his eyes darted from the man to Roman back again, half tempted to punch him out and run regardless of what his intentions were. Blood rushed in his ears as the others’ eyes widened, Roman standing frozen in front of him as he finally spoke.

“Roman?”

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I have a lot to expand upo in regards to how magic works in this worked, which we'll definitely be exploring in later chapters. For now if you have any questions about, feel free to ask either here or head over to @5-falsehoods-phonated on tumblr. Anon is always on and I'd be delighted to answer any and all questions provided the answer wouldn't be a spoiler. Thanks for reading ^-^

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im-fairly-whitty · 4 years

Text

Title: Forget Me Not by @im-fairly-whitty (Ao3: im_fairly_witty)

Fandom: The Witcher (Netflix/Books/Game)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Wordcount: 11731

Summary: You meet up with your soulmate in dreams once or twice every year your whole life, giving you the chance to grow up together and befriend each other no matter where you live. The catch is you only remember what happens in those dreams if you’re currently in one, or if you meet in real life and you BOTH want to be with each other, meaning your waking lives carry on as they would have otherwise with you none the wiser as to whether or not you have a soulmate out there.

This leads to unexpected and wonderful tearful reunions between soulmates discovering each other in waking life, but if your waking selves don��t get along or have emotional constipation (cough, Geralt, cough cough) you and your soulmate can only watch helplessly from your dream meetings as your waking selves make things terrible for both of you without even realizing it.

Additional Tags: Geraskier of course. Instant friendship, but a bit of a slow burn romantically, because Geralt's had five year old Jaskier for fifteen minutes (and if anything happened to him he'd kill everyone in this room and then himself) but romantic feelings don't start until later when they're both adults. Hurt comfort, wump, First Kiss. Happy Ending because RIP season one but I'm different. Also young Jaskier is a national treasure who must be protected at all costs.

For @geraskierweek: prompt 1, Soulmates

Geralt is eighty five years old when he meets his soulmate for the first time in a dream.

He knows it’s a soulmate dream too, he’s never dreamt anything nearly so vivid or calm, only ever having had muddled nightmares if anything at all. But now he finds himself standing in a field of wildflowers, a slight breeze brushing over the loose black shirt he’s wearing. An unseen sun warms his skin in the perfect pleasantness of a calm summer’s day.

And Geralt feels sick to his stomach. Because he does not want a soulmate, had been convinced that he didn’t have one after decades of nothing.

But as he walks across the field he hears the soft gurgling of a brook and sees exactly why it’s taken so long for his first dream to come. Sitting on the bank of the stream, shoes and socks stripped off with his feet splashing in the water, is a five year old boy.

Geralt’s sick feeling doubles as he silently watches the boy from afar, suddenly far more furious at destiny for what it’s just done to this poor child. Matching him up with a monster. The boy should be meeting someone his own age right now, a childhood friend seen fleetingly in dreams once or perhaps twice a year as they aged together. Not a witcher.

Geralt jumps as the little boy looked over his shoulder, spotting him. For a moment Geralt considers just turning and leaving, just walking away and out of this poor child’s dreams for good.

But then the boy’s eyes light up in a look of eager happiness and he waves excitedly, jumping up and running over to him before he can get away.

“Hi! My name’s Julian! What’s your name? Do you know what this place is?” The little boy asks excitedly, jumping up and down with seemingly boundless energy. “There’s so many flowers, I love them!”

“I’m Geralt.” Geralt says a little stiffy, mind reeling a bit. Because he can’t remember a single time in his life that a child has greeted him with anything other than fear, and it’s stunned him as easily as Axii.

“Hi Geralt! I’m Julian!” says Julian brightly, having apparently already forgotten his previous introduction in his excitement. He grabs Geralt’s hand before he can react and pulls him along. “Come see the stream I found!”

Geralt swallows as he lets himself be tugged along, at a loss for words or thought. Instead he finds himself listening attentively as Julian drags him to stand in the shallow water, proudly showing him wet rocks and pebbles of slightly different colors.

It’s only been a few minutes when Geralt feels the dream already starting to fade, they never last long for the first few years he’s heard. But by the time Julian disappears from sight Geralt is absolutely heartbroken for the child, having already come to love him in the kind of way that would have him burning a village should he come to harm.

And Geralt is absolutely furious to know that he will have no memory of the dream once he wakes up. That neither of them will remember their encounter until the next time they meet.

***

Julian is eleven when he finally realizes why he can never remember Geralt when he wakes up.

“You’re my soulmate aren’t you.” Julian not so much asks as simply states, looking up at Geralt.

The two of them are sitting cross legged in the wildflower field they always meet in, braiding long strands of grass to see who can make the longest one. Sometimes they explore together, sometimes they sit on the bank of the stream to splash around, sometimes Julian manages to get Geralt to tell him a story. They’re always very exciting stories.

“Hmmm.” Geralt grunts, not looking up from his grass braiding.

“My mum says if you meet your soulmate in your dreams not to bother telling them your name, because neither of you will remember when you’re awake.” Julian says, reaching over to pick a flower to weave into his grass braid. “That’s why I only remember you when we’re here, isn’t it?”

“Hmmm.” Geralt says again. But Julian knows it’s the “yes” kind of hmmm. They’ve met enough times over the years that Julian knows what all the hmmm’s mean now.

They continue to braid for a few quiet minutes, the soft breeze rustling through the wildflowers.

“How come you’re so old?” Julian asks, looking up at Geralt. “Aren’t soulmates supposed to be the same age?”

There’s a kind of almost smile on Geralt’s face which means he’s supposed to be chuckling, but then a little bit of a sad look too.

“It’s because I’m a witcher.” Geralt says, not looking at Julian as he plucks another long blade of grass. “It means I’ll live for hundreds of years and still look about this age.”

“Oh, like elves.” Julian asks, nodding sagely.

“Yeah, a little bit like elves.” Geralt says with a shrug, but now his little smile stays.

Julian’s nose wrinkles, “Does that mean it’s not going to be until I’m like fifty that we meet in real life? So I look as old as you do?”

Geralt actually laughs at that, reaching over to ruffle Julian’s hair. “I do not look fifty. Thirty at most.”

“But you’ve got white hair!” Julian says defensively, warming to his argument. “Only really old people have white hair, everybody knows that Geralt.”

“A fair point, little lark.” Geralt says. His smile dims a little. “And I don’t know when we’ll meet in real life. I hope we don’t.”

“What?” Julian cries, jumping to his feet, throwing his grass braid into the air for emphasis. “But we’re soulmates! We gotta meet in real life too so we can be real life friends! How else are we gonna remember each other when we’re awake?”

“My life isn’t one that you want to be in.” Geralt says gently. “I’m always in danger, I’m always having to fight monsters and travel hard. You wouldn’t be able to come with me, it would be too dangerous and I would be too unkind.”

“But you’re always nice. You’re my best friend!” Julian insists, crossing his arms.

“It’s easier here.” Geralt says simply, going back to his braid. “I don’t have to worry when I’m here. But if we meet in real life you’ll be frightened of me, I’ll have two great swords on my back and be in dirty armor and look angry all the time to scare off people who want to hurt me.”

“I won’t let anyone hurt you.” Julian says seriously. “I’ll make them be nice to you, I’ll tell them how great and kind you are and then you won’t have to worry.”

“I’m sure you would.” Geralt says with a sad smile, holding up his finished grass braid to Julian as they feel the dream start to fade.

***

Geralt is ninety five the year that Julian’s mother dies. He holds the fifteen year old on his arms as the boy cries bitterly into his shoulder the entire dream they’re together, having had no other shoulders to cry on when he was awake.

***

“I ran away from home last month.” Seventeen year old Julian says.

Geralt looks over at him where they’re both lying in the grass, hands behind their heads as they stare at the blue nothing sky.

“Did your father finally throw you out?” Geralt askes. “Or did you finally hide enough money for Oxenfurt?”

“A little of both.” Julian says, voice deceptively easy. “Got caught sleeping with a maid and figured it was time to get out while I still could. I didn’t fancy being beaten within an inch of my life like Mother.”

A long moment of quiet passes between them.

“Are you safe? Where you are?” Geralt asks, looking over.

“Not really.” Julian says quietly, reaching down to pluck a blade of grass and starting to slowly break it apart in his fingers. “I’m pretending to myself that I am, but I know I’m going to get stabbed if I hang around much longer. I’ll probably wise up in a day or two, once I get over my pride.”

“Did you buy a knife like I told you to?” Geralt askes, knowing perfectly well how futile giving advice of any kind is, but having to try anyway.

“I didn’t.” Julian says, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “I was even looking at one in the marketplace, thinking how much I wished I knew how to use one properly.” he looked over at Geralt, sharing the moment of sad irony with him. “It’s utter rubbish, this not being able to remember business. At least when we meet I’ll suddenly have the knife wielding skills of a bandit from what you’ve taught me.”

Geralt chuckles a sad kind of chuckle that ends in a sigh.

Another minute of silence.

“And don’t say we’re not going to meet, because I can feel you thinking it and we are.” Julian says, raising up on one elbow to glare at him more easily.

“We aren’t going to meet.” Geralt said, shaking his head tiredly. “You’ll see me coming a mile away and be too terrified to even get a look at my face. As you should be.”

“I won’t!” Julian insists. “We’ll end up in the same seedy tavern someday, soon too now that I’m traveling, and we’ll see each other across the crowd as I’m playing my lute and suddenly I’ll remember how to wield a knife and you are going to remember you owe me a drink.”

Geralt only keeps shaking his head. “You only get your dream memories back if you both want to be together Julian. You know I don’t want a soulmate. My life isn’t the kind that’s supposed to be shared, there’s not a chance that I’m going to see you in real life and want you around me. Neither of us will remember.”

“You can’t convince me I’m unattractive Geralt, I have an extremely healthy self image.” Julian says, stretching in a comical attempt at a sexy pose.

“You’re a child.” Geralt scoffs.

“Not for long.” Jaskier says, raising an eyebrow. “Give me a few years and I’ll look as old as you, and then when I find you I’ll keep badgering you until you let me stay, and then boom. Soulmate memories.”

Geralt snorts. “If I had an entire week I could not explain to you all the ways in which that is extremely unlikely.”

Geralt closes his eyes, but he can feel Julian watching him from across the grass.

“If we already remembered each other, would you come get me?” Julian asks quietly, the barest hint of a shake hidden in his voice.

Geralt opens his eyes, looking at him steadily. “If we already remembered each other I would have come to get you the day your mother died, and then killed your father for good measure.”

“Okay.” Julian says, voice still quiet as he curls up a little in the grass, still laying on his side.

Geralt can smell the fear starting to seep off the boy as he feels the dream start to fade around them, pulling them back to real life.

“You’ll be alright.” Geralt says, reaching over to grip the boy’s shoulder comfortingly. “You’re stubborn and you’re quick on your feet if nothing else, you’ll survive.”

“Geralt, I-” Julian’s hand grips his.

And then the dream fades.

***

Geralt is ninety nine the first time he finds himself in a soulmate dream where he finds that he’s even more upset than the very first time he found himself in the wildflower field.

“Geralt!”

He looks over and see Julian...no, Jaskier, sprinting toward him. The young man slams into him at top speed, grabbing him in a hug that is buzzing with energy and excitement.

“We met!” Jaskier cries, his eyes actually filling with excited tears. “We met! We met! I can’t believe we finally met, and Gods Geralt you never once mentioned how lethally attractive you are in real life! I thought I was going to die when I saw you! And-”

There are too many things in Geralt’s head that need to be said, too many competing emotions warring to get out first.

But Geralt does the most important thing first and wraps Jaskier into a protective bear hug, holding him close. Jaskier returns the hug eagerly, quieting for just a moment despite practically humming in excitement.

“We didn’t remember.” Geralt says quietly, pulling out of the hug enough to look Jaskier in the eyes, then anger surfaces for its turn out in the open. “And what are you doing Jaskier? Why on earth are you following me around? You nearly got slaughtered by elves on your first day! Do you have a death wish?”

“But that’s the thing Geralt!” Jaskier says eagerly. “I can tell there’s something special about you! I saw you in the tavern and I could tell!”

“You know we’re soulmates?” Geralt demands.

“No, no, no memories at all, but still it feels like...” Jaskier bites his lip, searching for words, which doesn’t happen often. “I’m not sure what it feels like, but it just feels like I’m supposed to be around you, I feel like you can keep me safe. I haven’t figured it out yet obviously, but maybe I will soon!”

Geralt feels his heart ache, remembering the disgust and irritation he feels toward Jaskier in real life without his true memories to assist him.

“I’m sorry for hitting you.” he says quietly.

“Oh that’s alright.” Jaskier says with a grin. “I supposed I deserved it, but I did warn you I was going to be stubborn!”

“Jaskier there’s no way this is going to work.” Geralt says, shaking his head. “I’ve already decided to shake you off when we reach town tomorrow, you’re too slow on foot and you sing too much.”

“You are so grumpy in real life, you know that?” Jaskier says, narrowing his eyes and jabbing a finger at Geralt’s chest. “Like, unbelievably grumpy, and mean! Do you have an entire witcher mutagen dedicated to being taciturn in real life that doesn’t affect you when you’re asleep? I swear you’re like a whole different person!”

“I’ve only known you for a few days in real life.” Geralt said, dropping his arms to his sides with a sigh. “You’re seeing what the world sees of me. I never let that guard down, ever. I can’t afford to. That’s the reality of being a witcher, I can’t ever be vulnerable or that’s the end of it for me.”

“I’m sorry.” Jaskier says, his eyes dropping. “I’m sorry your life’s been like that.” He looks up with a flame of anger in his own eyes. “I hate the way people look at you, the way you save all of them and then they treat you like garbage. I’m going to make them see who you really are Geralt, I’m already working on songs to do it.”

“Your songs that are already changing the truth of what actually happened to us?” Geralt said with a smile.

“Yes! And they’re going to be fantastically popular.” Jaskier says, absolutely convinced.

“Also,” Geralt says, his smile disappearing and raising an eyebrow as his grip on Jaskier’s shoulder tightens. “You are utterly shameless. I can smell you constantly reeking of lust around me when we’re walking around together, have you ever once in your life tried to be subtle? That’s the biggest reason I’ve decided to shake you off tomorrow.”

Jaskier grins sheepishly, “In my defence you haven’t told me how old you really are?” he tries. “I’m still out there assuming you’re a foxy mid to late thirties.”

“Will it really make a difference when you find out I’m ninety nine?” Geralt asks flatly.

“No.” Jaskier says, his grin no longer sheepish. “Oh, and happy hundredth by the way if you haven’t told me by then.”

“No changing the subject.” Geralt says sternly. “We’re likely never going to see each other again in real life after your obnoxious performance, so I hope you’re satisfied with our one death outing together.”

“Oh, we’ll meet again.” Jaskier said happily.

“And how can you be so sure?” Geralt says dryly.

“Because I’ve already decided I’m going to stalk you across the continent like a lovesick schoolboy.” Jaskier says proudly. “And my awake self decided that all on his own.”

“That’s because you are a lovesick school boy. One who’s going to get himself killed by following me.” Geralt says, shoving at Jaskier’s shoulder as they begin to walk across the meadow to their usual spot by the stream.

“Honestly though Geralt, why have you kept me around even this long? You have to like me at least a little.” Jaskier asks, looking at him curiously as he follows.

“You’re the first human I’ve ever met who doesn’t smell like fear when they look at me.” Geralt says with a shrug. “It’s intriguing. Novel.”

Jaskier makes a sad kind of noise, looking at him and then wrapping him in a second hug.

“Geralt, here I was fishing for compliments and you have to hit me with that?” Jaskier mumbles against his chest.

“Well I’m never ever going to say it in waking, so I might as well.” Geralt sighs.

“Just you wait, we’re going to make it, I know we will.” Jaskier says, looking up at him with a smile full of determination. “I’ll track you down again, you’ll see.”

***

Only nine months and one dream pass before Jaskier manages to find Geralt again in real life. He is extremely smug.

“Just you wait, Witcher.” Jaskier says, using the name he’s picked up from using in real life. “By the end of the year we’ll both have remembered.”

***

If Geralt had known three years passed without a single dream he would have been worried, but of course he has no way of knowing that until he finds himself standing in the field of flowers again.

Jaskier is standing a ways off, arms folded tightly as he stares off into the nothing distance, his shoulders tense.

“Jaskier.” Geralt calls, and the bard turns, a look of sheer relief breaking through his worried expression as he runs to Geralt.

“Why was it so long?” Jaskier asks, face buried against Geralt’s neck as they hold tightly to one another. “Why haven’t we seen each other in so long Geralt?”

Geralt takes a long moment just to breathe in Jaskier’s scent, which is riddled with fear and unease, then kisses his forehead, aching because he knows there’s no good way he can apologize for how he’s acted in waking life. Because of course they have seen each other, quite often in fact, but Geralt hates seeing it with remembering eyes. His gruffness, the constant shoving Jaskier away both figuratively and literally. The way that Jaskier puts up with it all with a smile.

Things aren’t always bad, they’ve had good times too, but not nearly enough to make up for it in his opinion.

“I don’t know.” Geralt says slowly, almost having to remember how to use long sentences again after so long in his customary waking gruffness. “Perhaps it’s because we’re together often in real life. The dreams don’t feel like they have to pull us together any more.”

“It’s been three years Geralt and we haven’t remembered a thing yet.” Jaskier says, his voice sounding a little hoarse against Geralt’s neck. “I, I guess things are pretty normal for us only having known each other three years though, right? Loads of people probably act like we do. With me hanging on and you hating everything...”

Geralt bites his lip, realizing that Jaskier had gotten so used to glossing over his emotions around Geralt in real life that he’s even doing it here now.

“You scare me in real life.” Geralt said, being the first to be honest. “I keep thinking I’m going to break you or scare you off like everyone else, I don’t understand what you see in me to keep following me and being kind and it frightens me. That’s why I still have so many walls, I’ve never had a real human friend, and I’m afraid of how fragile I think you are.”

Jaskier makes a small choking sound, nearly a sob as he looks up and Geralt sees tears in his eyes. “We are friends then?” he asks, voice hoarse. “In real life I mean, I always keep hoping we are or, or will be, but I just don’t know what you think about me really so I just keep joking around it and-”

“You’re the truest friend I’ve ever had Jaskier.” Geralt said firmly, putting a hand gently to his cheek. “You just picked the worst possible person to try befriending. I promise.”

“O-okay.” Jaskier said, tears sliding down his cheeks as he gasps for breath a little. “Okay. It’s just so hard to tell with you sometimes.” He wiped fiercely at his eyes. “Gods, sorry, I swear I’m not this distraught in real life, honestly I’m alright, I’m perfectly pleased to keep worrying away at you for the long haul. It’s just so...so disorienting to be back here I suppose, to remember. I just wish we both remembered already.”

“It’s alright little lark.” Geralt said softly, sitting in the grass and pulling Jaskier down into his arms. Holding him tight, as if it could make up for three years of only rough and brief touches in passing. “This is my fault, I always told you I’d be miserable company in real life.”

“It’s not all bad you know.” Jaskier swallows, resting his head against Geralt’s chest. “Really it’s not. You’re always so kind to people who really need it, and you make the worst jokes when we’re alone on the road together, and you’re so soft with Roach, and you’re terrifying at Gwent. And I know you really do care about me, because you’re always saving my skin every single time I need it, and I know you make sure I get the best parts of our food when we’re running low, and I know you bought me those boots last month because mine were falling apart so don’t even pretend it was because they were cheap anyway. I know they weren’t. I know clothes Geralt.”

Something warm gently flickers in Geralt’s chest as his bard lists so many things Geralt hadn’t considered as being good. They were just things he felt he needed to do. But coming from Jaskier they did sound good. It almost makes him feel better.

“So you’re not miserable then?” Geralt asks hesitantly.

“No! No, not by a long shot.” Jaskier says, wide-eyed as he looks up at him. “Geralt these are the best years I’ve ever had in my life, I get to go adventuring with you and see sights no one in Oxenfurt’s ever seen, and then I get to go hole up for the winter in a warm classroom and write songs while you hibernate up at your witcher castle. This is the dream Geralt.”

“You should have better dreams.” Geralt says softly. “These years are the prime of your life, you should be spending them doing something else.”

“If you remember to tell me all that again when we wake up I’ll do it.” Jaskier says, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Speaking of better dreams,” Geralt says flatly. “would you actually die if you didn’t jump in bed with everything that moves? As glad as I am that you appreciate me dragging you out of every fire you light under yourself, I sometimes forget I’m supposed to be fighting monsters, not cuckolded husbands.”

“Do you have any idea how much sexual frustration I deal with on a daily basis just from being around you?” Jaskier replies seriously. “When you walk around looking like a marble statue in black leather and a loose ponytail? And that’s just when you have clothes on.”

Geralt rolled his eyes. “Well, good to see you’re feeling better.”

“I’m serious Geralt.” Jaskier says, curling closer to him, looking down at the grass. “I’m not just sticking around for the song material anymore. I’ve...really fallen for you. You could at least pretend to notice.”

“You’re still so young.” Geralt shakes his head, resting his chin gently on Jaskier’s head. “You get obsessed with things all the time, I know you’ll get bored and move on eventually.”

“I won’t. Not from you.” Jaskier says firmly, one hand holding tightly to the front of Geralt’s shirt. “And you can’t keep using my age as an excuse either, I know for a fact that you don’t sleep with prostitutes your age when we visit the Passaflora, so you can stop pretending that’s a valid excuse not to be attracted to me at this point.”

Geralt only chuckles. “I’m only telling you what I really think in waking life Jaskier, you can’t get mad at me for it here.”

“Well, what do you think here?” Jaskier asks, looking up at him, their faces only inches apart now.

Geralt thinks for a moment, looking into the young man’s cornflower blue eyes. He can’t deny that in waking life he has considered more than once how attractive the bard is. But even in waking it’s not something he’s considered at length, far more concerned with the constant challenge of keeping his curious human companion in one piece than anything else.

“What I think here is that you are still young.” Geralt says gently. He kisses Jaskier’s forehead and the bard heaves a sigh.

“You’re the worst soulmate ever, you know that?” He says, squinting up at him accusingly.

“I’ve never claimed to be anything else.” Geralt says, a little too soberly.

“What if we don’t see each other again for another three years?” Jaskier asks, smelling nervous again.

“That’ll probably mean we’re still traveling together fairly often.” Geralt reasons. “You know, if you leave me alone maybe we’ll see each other here more again.”

“Not a chance, witcher.” Jaskier says. “Not a chance.”

***

By the time they’ve traveled together for the better part of twelve years in waking life they’ve seen each other four more times in dreams. Which is not nearly enough, and somehow far too much.

“I’m going to ask you to escort me to Cintra tomorrow night for the betrothal feast, I got invited to play at it.” Jaskier says quietly against Geralt’s shoulder. The two of them are standing in the field of wildflowers together, simply holding each other after years of distance.

“I’ve been gone three days after a selkimore.” Geralt says with a smile. “How are you so sure I’m even alive?”

“Well now I know you’re alive.” Jaskier says, looking up at him with a grin. “I’ll remember.”

“You won’t.”

“I will.” Jaskier says, as if it’s a fact, not a wish. “And when you’re back you’ll probably be covered in all kinds of filth like usual and I’ve got a bath and everything all planned to butter you up to make you come with me.”

“I won’t like it.” Geralt warns.

“You don’t like anything.” Jaskier points out.

“I like you.” Geralt says.

Jaskier looks up at him with his thirty one year old eyes and tilts his head a bit. “How do you mean?”

“In waking life.” Geralt says simply. “I’ve started to really...like you. Unironically, I love having you around me.

“You absolute bastard! I knew it!” Jaskier cries in delight, taking hold of Geralt’s shirt collar. “And yet you still pretend we aren’t friends, but you do like me. I see you listening to all my songs from the back of the tavern, and the way you smile just a little when I talk too long even though you aren’t listening, and you are going to agree to come to Cintra with me aren’t you?”

“I probably will.” Geralt sighed. “When was the last time I told you no?”

“You tell me not to do things all the time, I just don’t listen.” Jaskier says with a smug grin.

“When was the last time you asked me for something and I didn’t eventually do it. Even if I didn’t outright agree.” Geralt corrects gently.

“Do you think...do you think we’ll remember soon?” Jaskier says, eyes wide in hope.

Geralt thinks they might, he really does. Even when awake he’s taken to being far more protective of the bard, keeping him close whenever he can, wanting him to stay. Wanting him. Even if he can’t even admit it to himself while awake.

But he just can’t bear to get his bard’s hopes up when he knows he can’t guarantee anything upon waking. For them to remember both of them have to want to be together, and for years now they’ve only been waiting on him.

“Perhaps.” He says with a shrug. He rests a hand against Jaskier’s face and the bard leans into his touch. “But I hope so.”

“Geralt, can I kiss you?” Jaskier asks, as calmly as if asking whether it was raining outside.

“If you like.” Geralt says.

Their first kiss is as gentle as the breeze whispering through the wildflowers at their feet, as calm as the small brook that flows past them.

The dream fades before they have the chance for a second one.

***

Geralt is sitting in the wildflower field with his head in his hands. Even in dreams his constant waking headache hasn’t left him, in fact it almost seems worse.

Because it’s been five months since Cintra, and everything has gone exactly wrong.

He hears Jaskier appear behind him but doesn’t move. Footsteps through the grass, and then the pleasant warmth of Jaskier draping himself over Geralt’s back, slim arms wrapping around his neck as the bard kisses just behind his ear.

“Well, I assume it’s safe to say that neither of us saw that coming.” Jaskier says with a tired chuckle. “You left in a marvelous huff before I could ask, why did you claim the law of surprise? Really Geralt, after seeing all that, what on earth were you thinking?”

“That you would think it was a terribly funny joke when I inherited a new second hand crown or a fine jacket from it. That we’d both get a laugh from it after such a trying night.” Geralt says hoarsely, having no reason to lie.

“Geralt...” Jaskier says, at a loss for words.

Geralt doesn’t move as they sit in silence, because they both already know that if he hadn’t invoked the law of surprise then he wouldn’t have stormed off on his own, that he and Jaskier would have stayed together, that they just might have remembered each other by now.

And instead they are now alone in waking life, who knew how far apart. For who knew how long this time.

Geralt feels his hair pulled loose out of its half ponytail and Jaskier’s long fingers begin to comb through it. It eases his headache a bit and he closes his eyes.

“But why did you run so fast and so far?” Jaskier asks quietly. “You’d disappeared before I’d even gotten to my feet Geralt, you were long gone by the time I got back to the inn. No one says you have to actually take the child for your own, you could just be a sort of godparent couldn’t you? Just visiting every now and then like a kind uncle, they won’t even be born for-”

“Because I can’t stand it when destiny gets her hooks in children, and this time it’s my fault.” Geralt growls. “When that baby is born they’re going to be caged in at every side by destiny. No matter what they do, they’ll never be able to escape being a child surprise. They aren’t even born yet and their choice is already stripped from them. Because of me.”

Jaskier’s fingers go still in his hair.

“Is that why you hate the idea of soulmates so much?” Jaskier asks quietly.

“This, no, this isn’t about that.” Geralt shakes his head, but Jaskier is already gone from his back.

The bard moves in front of him, sitting down in the grass and looking at Geralt, trapping his gaze. “Is this why we haven’t remembered each other in waking life yet?” Jaskier asks, and Geralt can’t quite tell what emotion it is flavoring the bard’s voice this time, but it’s something sad. “Because deep down you think I’m trapped in this, so that’s why you keep pushing me away? That I have no choice but to be herded back to you by destiny? Is this because I was a child when we first met?”

“That isn’t what I-”

“No, you know what? It’s my turn to talk.” Jaskier says, and the sadness in his voice is so close to anger now that Geralt wishes he was anywhere else but here. “You always say that you don’t believe in destiny and that everything’s up to chance, but we both know that’s not true. I don’t love you because destiny told me to, I love you because you’re the best man I’ve ever met, here or awake. You’ve been the only person I can always rely on, even when you pretend you hate me.

“And think of Urcheon and Pavetta! They had it exactly the same as us, he was already grown when Pavetta was born too, and they still loved each other and remembered their soulmate dreams when they met in person. And now they’re together despite the greatest odds all because of destiny, and after what we both saw at that feast don’t you dare tell me that their love for each other isn’t real.”

“And now they owe their unborn child to a witcher.” Geralt says sourly.

“And why is that so terrible?” Jaskier cries in frustration. “You’re a lovely man Geralt, why is being connected to a child such a terrible concept to you?”

“Because I was a child surprise Jaskier!” Geralt shouts, he doesn’t remember getting to his feet, but now he’s standing over the bard. “Where do you think all the old wives tales of witchers stealing children come from?”

“But those are just tales, they don’t-” Jaskier says weakly.

“Every witcher was a child surprise.” Geralt says hotly. “That’s where we all come from. A life is saved and the law of surprise is demanded in return, and when the child is old enough to walk they’re whisked away, no matter how hard the parents beg. Because it’s destiny. And then seven out of ten of those little boys dies in terrible agony. Because it’s their destiny. My mother couldn’t have kept me back if she wanted to, I don’t even know if she wanted to Jaskier. My entire life has been set by some great unseeing hand and I hate it, and now it’s used me to get its claws into the unborn heir of Cintra, all because I couldn’t keep my idiot mouth shut. Do you perhaps, in all your sage acceptance of fate, see how that could perhaps possibly upset me?”

“Geralt, I didn’t know.” Jaskier says, face pale.

“No, you didn’t.” Geralt snaps. “Because as lovely as things are in this bloody field while we’re asleep, in waking my life is a terrible, dangerous, dark thing. Destiny decided before I was even born that I was to face pain and death every second of my unnaturally long life. I’m always going to be at the end of a blade, and the only thing that’ll keep me from being on the wrong end is if I treat everything around me like a threat. That is why we haven’t remembered each other in waking Jaskier, because you don’t belong in a life like that. I refuse to trap you in that with me.”

The breeze that is always brushing across the wildflower field has disappeared, leaving things unnaturally silent as Jaskier stares up at him. Wide blue eyes gazing at him, mercilessly soft. Geralt wishes that Jaskier would jump up too, that he would start yelling back at him, shove him, give him something else to react against. But he doesn’t.

“Do you love me?” Jaskier asks, watching him.

“What do you mean?” Geralt says.

“Do you?” Jaskier asks.

“Of course I do.”

“Good.”

“What do you mean, good?”

“Because I love you,” Jaskier says simply, picking a pale yellow wildflower from the grass by his knee. “and if we both still love each other that means we’ll manage to find each other again once you come to your senses.”

“Jaskier, I-”

“You don’t get to bad mouth destiny for supposedly taking away my choice and then go and try to take it away yourself.” Jaskier says, getting to his feet.

Geralt finds himself powerless to move as the bard tucks the flower behind his ear and kisses his cheek. Jaskier wraps his arms around his neck.

“I’ve been in your life for twelve waking years witcher,” Jaskier says gently in his ear. “And I’m not a child anymore. By now I know exactly what I’m getting myself into every time I tag along you know, I choose to be around you. I want to be with you. I’ll see you again.”

Geralt closes his eyes, gritting his teeth. Then he sighs, resting his head on Jaskier’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” Geralt says.

For yelling at him? For trying to force Jaskier’s hand? For abandoning him without a word in waking life? Or just for destiny tying them together in the first place? Maybe all four.

“Everything will be alright.” Jaskier says, kissing the corner of his mouth. “With us and with your child surprise. Even if it takes a while to get there.”

“Don’t you ever get tired of me?” Geralt asks. “How can you stand to be around me, even when I try driving you away?”

“I can always tell you don’t mean it.” Jaskier says, looking serious. “Deep down I think I know it’s not the real you when you act like that. But you’re lucky my waking self is convinced we’re soulmates and that we’ll wake up any moment, because sometimes you really are a prick Geralt.”

“You really think we’re soulmates when you’re awake?” Geralt asks, looking him in the eyes.

“It’s a ridiculously optimistic wish I can’t manage to make myself let go of.” Jaskier says with a shrug. “But we both know I’m a bit of an idiot.”

“Hmmm.” Geralt agrees.

“Not nearly as much of an idiot as you, but we make a fine pair I’ll admit.” Jaskier says with a grin.

Geralt moves to kiss him, but the dream fades before he has the chance.

***

The next time they meet he kisses Jaskier before he has the chance to say anything.

“Well. Hello, you.” Jaskier says, breathless but smiling as Geralt finally releases him from the kiss.

“Didn’t get to kiss you last time,” Geralt says, burying his face against Jasker’s neck and breathing in the bard’s scent. “Wanted to get it done first this time.”

“Well I certainly have no objection to that.” Jaskier hums. “I miss you you know, it’s been a few years. I’ve started courting a countess in your absence if you can believe it.”

“How terribly unfortunate for you.” Geralt says. He laughs as Jaskier smacks him.

***

“So. Yennifer.” Jaskier says quietly.

The two of them are curled up together in the long grass, Jaskier’s back against Geralt’s chest. The bard traces his fingers aimlessly over the arm Geralt has around his waist.

“Hmmm.” Geralt says, burying his nose in Jaskier’s hair, as if that will somehow keep them from the topic. But this is the first time they’ve seen each other since the djinn, so of course they’re going to talk about it.

“You know for not wanting people to be attached to you through cosmic means, you’re terrible at it.” Jaskier says.

“I really don’t need a reminder.” Geralt grumbles, closing his eyes tiredly.

“Why did you bind yourself to her?” Jaskier asks, words crisp. As if trying his hardest to keep them unemotional.

“She saved your life Jaskier, I couldn’t let her die.”

Geralt nearly whines as Jaskier pulls away from him, sitting up to look him in the face.

“She framed you for something that nearly got you executed, and then she tried to rope me into a dark ritual that went so badly it ripped an entire manor to pieces.” Jaskier says flatly. “You’d known her all of a few hours. You absolutely could have let her die.”

“Jaskier.” Geralt sighs.

“Is it because she’s older than you?” Jaskier says, his tone back to the flat clipped tone that means he’s hiding his emotions. “Is it because she’s powerful? Because she hates you? Everything I’m not?”

“Jaskier, no.” Geralt says, pushing himself up with a frown. “Yen is a good person, she’s just very old and hurting.”

“So you want her as your soulmate instead because she’s like you.” Jaskier says. “Because you can’t want things for yourself if they don’t involve something dangerous enough to kill you. That’s why you really like her isn’t it? Because chasing after her gives you the same rush as hunting monsters, it’s all you know how to do.”

“This is not about replacing you.” Geralt says, reaching for his wrist. “You’ve been with plenty of other people, that countess of yours kept you occupied for several years, why am I not allowed the same?”

“Because I don’t bind their souls to me with a djinn wish!” Jaskier snaps, yanking his arm away and getting to his feet.

“Jaskier, please, I’m sorry.” Geralt says, kneeling in front of the bard, hands up in surrender. “A djinn can’t kill its master, the only way I could think to save her was by binding her to me. It’s magic that can be undone, it’s not the same as destiny. I couldn’t let her die after she saved you. I would have broken if you’d died because of me.”

Jaskier crosses his arms, swallowing hard as he looks away. But he doesn’t say anything.

“And you’re right,” Geralt says, pressing on in the way he only ever manages when he’s not awake, when there’s only Jaskier to hear him. Where not even he will remember what he said in a few hours. “I am attracted to her because she’s like me. We have a lot of the same pain, a lot of the same fears.”

“Oh? And what is it that Yennefer of Vengerburg is so afraid of?” Jaskier says hotly.

“That she’ll never truly be loved, that’s she’s so far from human that no one will ever be able to need and care about her.” Geralt says.

“You can’t honestly believe that about yourself.” Jaskier says, looking at him with an expression of sad anger.

“I do when I’m awake.” Geralt says quietly. Because what else can he say?

Jaskier clenches his jaw, making a muffled irritated sound as he turns and stomps a few steps away, rubbing his face before turning back.

“How can you be so thick?” he cries, sharply gesturing at him with both hands. “How Geralt? How can you possibly be this dense? Why must you always see something simple and think to yourself, how can I make this as complicated as possible instead, hmmm? Is that something they taught you in Witcher school, all those apparently eons ago since you’re sooo old that you’re beyond the reach of human love and reason? You drag yourself into every terrible situation you can find, and then you have the audacity to be shocked when it has less than optimal results. Every single time.”

Jaskier is rambling. Which Geralt knows by now means less that the bard truly means what he says, and more that the man is trying very hard not to cry.

Geralt silently gets to his feet and catches Jaskier, pulling him into an embrace despite the bard’s protests and struggling. Jaskier hisses and pushes at him, hitting his chest, but then the bard goes limp in his arms, beginning to cry into Geralt’s shoulder.

Geralt says nothing, having nothing he can say. So he just holds Jaskier as the man sobs, looks up at the blue nothing sky.

“I hate these dreams.” Jaskier says thickly, face buried against Geralt’s neck. “I hate them. Everything is simpler when I’m awake, I hate remembering that things could be better, I wish I could just forget.”

“You don’t mean that.” Geralt says, his heart breaking.

“Don’t I?” Jaskier says, looking up at him with red rimmed eyes, tears running down his cheeks. “When I’m awake at least I have the luxury of thinking you’re an unrealistic fantasy, I can think every second I have with you is the best I’ve ever had. When I’m here I’m reminded every minute of what I don’t have, and even worse that you do care. It’s like having two hearts to be broken instead of only one Geralt.”

“Jaskier...please...” Geralt says helplessly, words failing him as surely as if he were awake. “If I knew how to fix this I would, you know I would.”

“I don’t know that anymore Geralt, that’s the problem.” Jaskier cries. “Because all I’ve ever heard you say in waking is that you don’t want to be needed, and when I’m here all you ever talk about is how much you don’t want me in your life with you. What am I supposed to think Geralt?”

“I...”

I’m not good at this.

I’m only pushing you away to protect you because I really do love you.

I need you.

But Geralt can’t figure out how to get the feelings from his brain to his mouth, leaving him stumbling for words as Jaskier watches him.

Geralt feels the dream fading around them and it only blocks his speech worse as he panics.

Jaskier disappears from his arms.

***

The next time Geralt finds himself in the wildflower field he is immediately consumed by a prickling feeling of guilt and panic that curls in his gut. Because even in waking he’s been consumed by uneasy guilt for the last two weeks, convinced he’s made a truly deep mistake but not quite knowing why underneath all his justifications.

If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands.

...I’ll see you around Geralt...

And now he knows exactly why, with excruciating clarity.

He sees a figure in the distance, watching him. Jaskier’s shirt is whipping in the stiff wind that races across the wildflower field, stronger than it’s ever been before, ripping petals off stems. The blue nothing sky has become a dark grey nothing sky above them, and sharp, dangerous shadows stretch across the field from nowhere.

“Jaskier!” Geralt shouts, starting toward him. He has to reach him, he has to make things right, fix what he’s done. He’s messed up far too badly this time, he has to fix this.

Jaskier doesn’t move, just watches him approach as the wind picks up even stronger, ripping up blades of grass and dirt that pelt against Geralt as he picks up speed.

“Jaskier, I-!”

Jaskier turns away from Geralt and walks away.

He takes two steps and vanishes completely into thin air.

Geralt stumbles to a halt, shielding his face as he shouts Jaskier’s name, not even hearing himself above the howling of the wind. He tries to push forward but is knocked to his knees. He squeezes his eyes shut against the gale, hunching down to dig his fingers into the ground to try and anchor himself, but everything feels like it is slipping, being ripped away from around him as he tries desperately to-

***

Geralt jolts upright, already half to his feet in a blind panic before the sleep clears from his head. He looks around and sees his camp. He’s awake. He’s alone. His pulse is racing from his dream.

He pants as he sits back down on his bedroll, forcing himself to take deep breaths as his heart beats far too fast for a witcher.

The noises of the forest night gently ease back into his senses as he rubs his face. The chirping of crickets, the whispering of a night breeze in the tree branches above him, the soft noises of Roach, who is watching him with worried interest from where she is grazing a few yards away in the dark. His campfire hasn’t even burned down to embers yet, so he gets up and throws on another log for the flames to eat at, trying to ignore the cold sweat covering him as he shakes slightly.

Because he hasn’t been able to sleep for three days now. Not even meditating helps for long.

Because every time he truly slips into unconsciousness he ends up in the same nightmare, and he doesn’t even know why it’s a nightmare. He’s always standing alone in the middle of a torn up field cast in a dark reddish light, strewn with the dead wreckage of uprooted grass and flowers. There is a dried up streambed and the air is dead still around him, feeling nearly suffocating.

And that’s all there is. Geralt’s never even seen the field before that he knows of, but every nightly visit fills him with such a sick feeling of loss that he wakes up shaking.

The night before it all started he’d actually woken up crying.

Though he doesn’t remember what it is he dreamed of that night.

“It’s got to be a warning.” Geralt says to Roach as he pulls a waterskin from his pack, voice not shaking. “If it’s the same vision repeated. But I don’t know what for, I never see anyone or anything. There’s not even buildings...just...dead flowers...”

He sits heavily on a log near the side of the campfire, drinking from the waterskin as he tries to pull his thoughts back together. But as he does his mind turns immediately to the other thing he’s been desperately trying not to think about.

Because he may be haunted by a dead field in his dreams, but when he’s awake all he can see is the back of a red doublet. All he can hear is his own angry words ringing in his mind. Jaskier’s unsteady ones in reply. Playing over and over and over and over-

“What am I supposed to do?” Geralt growls, throwing his hands up at the sky. Roach startles a little at his near shouting but Geralt isn’t even sure he’s talking to her anymore. To himself? Maybe. “I can’t sleep, I can’t think, I’m alone...”

Didn’t he want to be alone? Isn’t that what he’s been claiming his entire life?

“He was going to get hurt.” Geralt says lamely, his worn out excuse sounding pitiful. “He’s already spent too much of his life around me...he should be somewhere else...”

Nevermind that after so many years of company Geralt is always miserable without the bard beside him, no matter how much he tries to deny it. No matter that he knows for a fact that he’d hurt Jaskier worse than any monster they’d faced over the years when he’d shouted at him on that mountain.

The part that really hurts though is that Geralt knows he hadn’t even blamed Jaskier for things that were really his fault. He’d targeted Jaskier knowing he would take it, that the bard was the one person in the world who always stuck by him no matter how he treated him.

And it made Geralt sick. He’d finally crossed the line. Crossed the line and lost what he hadn’t known he had.

No, because that was a lie too. He knows he loves Jaskier, has for years. He’s just too much of a coward to accept it. Not when there is so much love bursting out of the bard, a frightening amount of care and affection waiting right in front of him. Something that Geralt can’t stand to lose, and therefore couldn’t risk touching, in case he harms it.

Geralt snarls at himself, starting to gather up his camp. Roach knickers curiously as he saddles her and packs everything into saddlebags, then goes over and stomps out the campfire. There was no use hanging around if he wasn’t going to be able to sleep anyway. That and he needs to get on the trail before he loses his nerve.

“Come on Roach.” he barks, pulling himself up into the saddle and digging in his heels.

Roach winnies and starts off under the light of the moon as Geralt steers her back to the main road.

If Geralt rides hard they could be back to the mountain in a day or two and he can track Jaskier from there. On foot the bard won’t have made it too far in three weeks, Geralt knows Jaskier prefers staying days or even weeks at a time in each town when Geralt isn’t with him. If he’s lucky he might be able to track him down in three or four days time.

He only hopes he won’t be collapsing from lack of sleep by then. He still has no idea how to treat his nightmares, should probably contact Triss or Yen about it before he goes mad, but Jaskier at least he knows how to find.

He has no idea what he can possibly say to the bard when he does, but even riding in the right direction makes him feel a little better. He just tries not to think about how long he’s been riding in the wrong one.

***

Jaskier has been bleeding for three weeks, but it’s the kind that no one else can see.

He bleeds into his lyrics, he bleeds into the notes he sings. Late at night he lays in bed, staring blankly at the wall of his inn room, feeling his sadness seep down into the sheets under him. Leaving him feeling hollow and cold.

The coin is good. People are moved by his music. The inn rooms are good. Paid for by the coin.

He supposed he could have found himself good company as well if he’d been able to look anyone in the eye.

Instead he is sitting outside in the dark. Alone. He sits under a tree near the empty market square of the town he’s been staying in for a week now, only the low flickering glow of hung lanterns to keep him company as he watches the night around him. It must be close to midnight, but he’s been sitting here since sunset, his lute laying silently in his lap, watching the night with him.

Because Jaskier does not know why it hurts so much, why being chased off by Geralt of Rivia has cut him to his very core in a way nothing else ever has. Especially since, despite the cheerful face he wears, Jaskier is no stranger to grief and disappointment.

Jaskier had longed after Geralt from the moment they met, back when he was practically still a child. They’d become good friends, despite what the Witcher often claimed, and Jaskier had always thought something was different about them. There must have been with the way Geralt allowed him closer and longer than anyone else in his life. Jaskier knew that Geralt cared about him underneath all of his emotional barriers, in recent years he’d even thought...had even suspected that...

Jaskier takes a slow, deep breath of the cool night air. He has been still so long that his body feels a step distant. As if he is merely a spirit watching invisibly with the trees as the night air brushes through the sparse grass in the empty marketplace. He wonders if this is how Geralt feels when he meditates.

He’ll never know now. Not now that Jaskier is finally realizing that it’s over. That he will no longer track down the Witcher, can never again follow behind him. Because if after all this time, after all these years, Geralt truly wants him gone...then Jaskier will finally give up.

So why does it feel like something deep inside of him has broken?

Jaskier watches as a figure makes its way down the street toward the square, a large man who is moving slowly. Jaskier watches with a detached kind of interest, this is simply the latest passerby to wander through the square this evening and Jaskier sits in the deep shadow of the tree, tucked safely out of sight.

But as the man moves closer Jaskier feels a prickle of unease. The man is moving more strangely than he’d realized, slowing every few steps as if...smelling the air...

Jaskier’s pulse quickens as his brain starts flipping through his mental catalogue of beasts and monsters, one that is quite extensive after decades of traveling with a witcher. He suddenly feels very foolish for indulging his dramatic side by staying out so late alone, his warm inn room with its lovely lockable door feels as if it is on the opposite side of the continent.

In the dark of the night Jaskier makes out the creature stopping, as if it can hear his pounding heart, and then Jaskier breaks into a cold sweat as whatever it is heads directly toward him, eyes reflecting unnaturally in the weak light of the lanterns.

Jaskier stumbles to his feet, clutching his lute in one hand and drawing his silver dagger with the other. A gift from Geralt he’s worn for the better part of twenty years now, having been taught to use it after a life on the road.

“Stay back.” Jaskier says in as clear a voice as he can manage, brandishing the dagger. “I’m armed with silver and I have no interest in a fight tonight. Take yourself elsewhere.”

The figure stops, hands held up. “Jaskier, it’s me.” Says an all too familiar voice.

Jaskier feels a raw place inside of him ache as Geralt cautiously edges a bit closer, enough to be illuminated by the light of a lantern.

Jaskier’s hand trembles on the dagger, and then he sheaths it. He turns and walks away without a word, feeling a clawing sense of deja vu as he walks toward his inn.

“Jaskier, please.” Geralt’s voice says, and of course the Witcher keeps up easily, walking by his side as Jaskier refuses to look at him.

After three weeks of bleeding he just doesn’t have anything left to give. He is drained, he can’t even look at Geralt.

“Jaskier-”

He jerks as he feels a hand close on his wrist. He feels tears start to prick in his eyes as he yanks his arm away, turning to look Geralt square in the face.

“Why are you here?” Jaskier demands, his voice nearly a snarl as he looks up at the witcher. “What do you want, Geralt?”

Geralt stops, looking stung. Good, as he should. The brute probably hasn’t even given what he did a second thought the whole time Jaskier’s felt like dying.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone.” Geralt says, sounding gruff and oddly off balance.

“Go back to whatever contract it is you’re working and leave me alone.” Jaskier snaps, struggling to keep down the hot tears he can feel rising. “I left, just like you wanted, alright? Now go.”

“I didn’t...I...” Geralt struggles for words, huffing in frustration as he rubs his face.

Jaskier can’t tell for sure in the dim light but he thinks he sees dark circles under the witcher’s eyes, as if he hasn’t been sleeping. He’s...never seen Geralt look this worn out before...

He swallows, trying his best to push away the concern rising in him as he starts to notice signs of distress all over Geralt. Bags under his eyes, his hair loose and unbrushed, armor dusty with hard travel but clean of the viscera that would mean he’d been getting work. Things that perhaps only Jaskier would notice.

“You didn’t what?” Jaskier asks, hating himself for still caring enough to be worried, his voice losing a bit of its heat.

“I didn’t...mean it.” Geralt says, his voice sounding a little hoarse as he gets the words out.

“Didn’t mean what?” Jaskier demands, folding his arms as tightly as he can, as if that will shield him from this distressed witcher who has tracked him down in the middle of the night. Who doesn’t look at all like he’s working a contract. Who looks as tired as Jaskier has felt for weeks.

“What I said.” Geralt says, swallowing as he looks away, as if unable to meet Jaskier’s gaze. “On the mountain. I was angry. I was unfair to you.”

Jaskier feels stunned, unable to say anything.

Geralt...is apologizing.

“I know I’m a terrible companion-” Geralt says, continuing in the silence.

“You are.” Jaskier says, his voice higher than it should be.

“But...everything feels wrong without you.” Geralt looks up, catching Jaskier’s gaze with his steady golden amber eyes. “I’m not good at this. I’m not good at words like you are Jaskier. But I’m sorry, I didn’t mean what I said.”

Geralt looks like he is biting the inside of his cheek, as if he’s scared. Jaskier has seen Geralt upset, uneasy, surprised, hesitant, even startled. But never scared, and he finds it scares him.

“I...” Geralt swallows, looking like he is bracing himself for something painful. “I need you Jaskier. And I know that I’ve made things so difficult, and I know that you have no reason to forgive me, but I don’t think I can pretend anymore that I...that I don’t care for you. Even if that means you might be in harm’s way. Because you’ve been by my side for decades, and I don’t want to continue without you.”

Jaskier feels as if the ground has dropped out from under his feet, as if he’s been slammed back against the wall behind him. His head is an overwhelming mess of fragmented thoughts and emotions, because what on earth is happening?

He presses a hand tight against his mouth as he turns away from Geralt, unable to handle his gaze a moment longer as he tries desperately to think, to pull together some of those words he’s so well known for. He can do this, he can come up with some scrappy, witty reply. He can shrug all of this off with a joke that will clear everything up and they’ll be on their way again.

Just like he has for the past twenty two years now.

But instead Jaskier’s chest shudders and he feels hot tears spill down his cheeks as he begins to cry. His shoulders tremble as he tries to stifle the emotion down behind the hand he has painfully tight against his mouth, his other arm still held against himself as if it could hold him together.

Because he’d thought he’d been bleeding for three weeks, in a way no one else could see, but suddenly he thinks perhaps he’s been bleeding for far longer than that...that perhaps he’s been bleeding for years. And he suddenly doesn’t know if that’s something he can go back to. Because Geralt says that he cares for him, which Jaskier knows for this vocabulary sparse witcher means love.

And if Geralt loves him, can Jaskier really chance losing himself entirely should things go wrong again? Because if he forgives Geralt this time, if he allows himself to want the witcher this time, Geralt will have all of him. Jaskier won’t be able to hold back, he knows it, he won’t be able to keep the vulnerable parts of himself safe anymore.

And that scares him more than he’s ever been scared in his life.

He braces his free hand against the wall as he shakes. It feels as if some secret part of him, some reservoir of extra years of sadness and longing and hurt he hadn’t known about have come loose, flooding him with an overwhelming wave of unexpected emotion. But where is it coming from? He wildly wonders if perhaps he is dying. Because this is what he imagines dying would feel like.

“Julian. I’m sorry.” Geralt says, his voice full of so much pain and concern that it makes Jaskier cry harder. He feels the faintest pressure ghost over his shoulder, as if Geralt had nearly reached out for him but then pulled back. “Do you want me to go? I’ll leave if you want me to. I’m sorry, I don’t, I didn’t mean....”

“Don’t!” Jaskier says, the word coming out in a teary panic. “Don’t leave.”

Because as much as he wants all of this to somehow disappear, even if he can’t bring himself to turn around just yet, the one thing he knows that will not be able to stand is if Geralt leaves him like this.

He bites his lip hard as he feels warm, hesitant hands on his arms. And then Geralt pulls him against him in a tight hug, arms wrapped around Jaskier’s chest protectively. Jaskier leans back against him, holding onto Geralt’s arms like a lifeline, fighting to get his breathing under control as the physical contact anchors him, somehow making everything seem less like it’s spinning out from under him. Geralt has never held Jaskier like this, but it still somehow feels familiar, it feels safe and right and has Jaskier wishing it could always like this.

“I’m sorry.” Geralt says again quietly, his voice right next to Jaskier’s ear. “I just don’t want to lose you.”

“I don’t want to lose you either,” Jaskier says, his breath finally under control. He feels a cool breeze sweep past them. “But it’s so hard to keep this up Geralt, I can’t stand only remembering how much I really love you when we’re asleep, when we’re waking it’s like-”

Jaskier’s breath catches as the same instant that Geralt’s does, memories of a wildflower field rushing through him. Years of friendship and love and trust revealing themselves like a flower unfurling. His fingers dig into Geralt’s arm in shock as the witcher’s embrace tightens almost painfully, because of course if Jaskier is remembering, they both are.

“W-we’re awake.” Jaskier chokes. He turns in Geralt’s arms, looking up at him. “We’re awake.”

“We’re awake.” Geralt says, his voice thin with shocked wonder.

“We’re awake!” Jaskier cries, throwing his arms around Geralt’s neck as his tears begin anew. But this time he is laughing through them as Geralt crowds him up against the wall, kissing him hard and desperate.

“I haven’t slept in a week.” Geralt says between kisses, his voice raw with emotion as his hands roam Jaskier’s body, as if checking to make sure it’s really him. “I thought I’d lost you, the field, it’s all ripped up, I didn’t know where you’d gone.”

“I’m sorry.” Jaskier gasps, carding his fingers through Geralt’s white hair even as he pulls him closer. “I’m sorry Geralt, I was so hurt and angry, I couldn’t stand it anymore when I didn’t think you cared anymore. But you’re here, we’re both here and we’re awake and we remember. You really want me with you then? If we both remember?”

“I’ve always wanted you with me little lark, I just took too long to realize it.” Geralt says, burying his face against Jaskier’s neck and breathing in his scent.

“I can’t believe we aren’t trapped in that wretched field anymore.” Jaskier says giddily, nuzzling against Geralt’s temple as he runs his hands down the witcher’s sides, just because he can. “We can get something to eat together, we can see a sunset, we can sleep in a bed, we can be around other people.” His eyes light up. “I have my lute! I can play you songs instead of only singing!”

“We’ve already done all of those things.” Geralt says with a fond smile, kissing stray tears off of Jaskier’s face.

“But now we can really do them. Together. Because we’re finally both here.” Jaskier says, taking Geralt’s face in his hands and kissing him softly.

“I’m sorry it took me so long.” Geralt says, eyes closed as he rests his forehead against Jaskier’s. “I’m sorry I hurt you, little lark.”

“Hush. No more apologizing.” Jaskier says, stroking his thumb against Geralt’s cheek, his heart flutters as the witcher leans into his touch. “This is all I’ve ever wanted, you’ve already given me the best proof you can that you really mean it.”

“What do we even do now?” Geralt says with a chuckle, shaking his head a bit with a smile. “We won’t fade away in less than an hour, what do people even do with so much time together?”

Jaskier smiles as the witcher’s last last words are drowned in an enormous yawn. He wraps his arms around Geralt’s neck, gently kissing down the side of his throat.

“First you are going to carry me back to the inn and we are going to sleep until tomorrow evening because you look ready to fall over, darling.” Jaskier says softly. “And when we wake up we’ll still be together, and we will still remember we are together.”

“Mmmm.” Geralt hums appreciatively, hoisting Jaskier up into his arms with little effort. “And then?”

“I’m sure we’ll think of something to occupy ourselves.” Jaskier says, resting a hand on Geralt’s chest and leaning up to bite at his lower lip. “I’ve got some very time consuming ideas we can try. I have the room paid for through the end of the week, fresh heartbreak sells very well you know.”

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” Geralt says soberly, holding him closer as he begins to walk toward the inn.

“You already have.” Jaskier says softly, resting his head against Geralt’s shoulder.

There are so many things that must still be discussed, how this changes things. But Jaskier can’t find himself quite caring at the moment, instead closing his eyes he basks in the warm feeling.

Because he feels that he is home. A home that he will finally never have to leave again.

#the witcher #geralt #jaskier #dandelion #geraskier #wit writes #apparently my 'oh let me write a quick little thing' ideas come in 500 words or 10k #no inbetween #I wanted to see if I could make a soulmate au that had plausible reasons for not recognizing each other right away instead of relying #on bad communication #and here we is #and geraskier weeks has been so fun to read I figure I might as well throw mine into the ring too

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ziracona · 4 years

Note

Anytime I see the legion im picturing urs so now in a trial im like "fukn idiot loser babies" *pallet smacks*. Reading ur meta(is that the term??) on Julie just now I'm like. So mad for her!! Get them kids some therapy!! How could the adults in their lives let them get to such a shitty point.. >:( Also, another thought I had with Adiris. The buzzfeed video is more her holding a bunch of cats. Because the survivors are like herding cats. Chaos children they are (im looking at you meg.)

Hahdjsdk god what a mood. Every time I see an Anna I’m just like “!!! MOM?” And get a hatchet between the eyes rip. And yeah! Meta is right.

For real, for real. Julie and all the Legion kids had some real shit going on. Joey by far had the best home life and family, but even he had a bunch of struggles in school because his family didn’t have time or in many cases experience to help him study, and it was crowded and poor, and because he had no help most kids got, he got treated like he was stupider, and even when he had skills in other areas, everyone at school expected him to perform well at sports and not much else like that was fine & he was meant to be valuable exclusively as an athlete, when he much preferred and actually really liked things like shop and ceramics and building/making stuff. But most people treat trade classes like easy As dumb kids pick (back when shop was still a thing), and like it was a worthless skill, and like. That doesn’t sound as bad as like, being bounced through foster homes as Frank, but pain is relative, you know? Bad is just bad. And things grind on you. It was hard to be taught constantly he was only worth something as a skill he didn’t even really care about, and get treated like he was dumb just because he had less help built in to school than most kids there did. People don’t talk about this much but like, having parents or sibs who help with homework? It’s a huge factor. So is just having family who are college graduates (if you go to college), because first gen student means walking in blind & alone & accountable to no one but bills, and like, college is initially overwhelming with two parents with Masters who are helpful. Any time what you value about you and what you love doesn’t match up with what people who have more power than you tell you is valuable about you/should be your goal, it’s hard. Especially as a teen still trying to like hack out an identity. Overly enthusiastic and impulsive, and has been mocked and hurt and turned on for it, but can’t shut it off. Big heart, but the luck to stand up usually just in time to get laid flat again.

And then Susie, with the parents who don’t care for her or pay her much mind other than disappointed looks and an occasional snap or suggestion or urging to try something different that what she’s doing. Bullied for her sexuality, nervous, and in a small town in the late 90s, probably the only lesbian (at least that she’s aware of existing) in that entire like couple hundred people mountain town, and sort of unbearably alone and misunderstood and isolated feeling. God, feeling like there’s just no one like you are out there is one of the worst feelings, isn’t it? Buried in the things she knows people whisper about her and a thousand tiny microinteractions a day that drain her armor. Loves Julie, but is so isolated Julie is her entire world to an unhealthy, co-dependant, and worryingly usable/manipulatable and non-independent nature for Susie. Because she’s so desperate to keep her she’d do anything not to be alone. But the struggle to never be alone by chasing Julie’s shadow means there’s no time for Susie and her own hopes and dreams and choices and developing personhood. But the worst part is that she’s genuinely happy this way, trailing after the girl she loves, which makes it so hard for either of them to confront and stop even enough to just make it healthy again. But she’s built her whole identity on one person like a precarious janga tower that could fall any second if the wrong piece goes, and that can’t be sustained forever, and who is she when it does crumble?

Then you got Julie, hot, popular, ignored personality disorder, proud parents who want her to keep being ideal and their little princess, than can’t handle her as a teen when she’s not in the box they expected anymore and they can’t just live and be proud vicariously through her all the time. Hit puberty early & dated way too physically way too young with way too much older men. Hit on by teachers, by men three times her age in parking lots. Quickly taught it’s safer to say yes than no and sex and love are a battlefield where you use the other as a stepping stone & the trick is to manurver so you’re okay once it’s over and got something while it went on. Had fun being hot and physically developed young because she suddenly had admirers and people were nice, then realized way too late that it came with constantly being in danger and under pressure to keep performing sexiness, and there wasn’t a livable choice to back out and fail those expectations anymore & be okay in her social circles. Knows she’s not emotional or loving in the way her loved ones are distressed about it, but can’t tell why, and gives up trying to ‘fix it’ and just pretends she doesn’t care and leans into being the sexy bitch and the power that comes with it. Doesn’t even know who she is herself beneath any of the ways she lives anymore, maybe she just is the act, maybe that’s fine. Trusts no one and that’s fine it’s just smart. Caught between liking the power of sex and intelligence and coldness, and the emptiness of not really being somebody. Needs to be loved and idolised and eternally aware how much people would hate her for that if they knew it was the truth, so she just keeps it to herself and makes herself someone they have no choice but to love and adore, so it’ll all be okay. Caught between worried she is cold and unfeeling and selfish and proud, and liking the power that goes with that, and the lack of desire to change, and the fear she doesn’t know how to do it. So she mostly just doesn’t think about any of the turmoil anymore and lives Julie instead of being her.

Then you got Frank, tossed around a myriad of foster homes, stolen by the government from the only one he ever was loved in over race, abused in every way foster parents have learned to abuse the kids they were supposed to love, and convinced since he was a kid that he’s a bad seed and a monster at heart, until he leaned into the violence of that to protect himself when no one else did. Harsh and strong and a fighter, a survivor, lonely and a loner, too much past, no future, not much present. Angry, god, so angry, and nothing to do with it. No skills, or money, or future, or any of it. No love, no family. Just the things he taught himself to survive. Just a good liar, a good fighter, adaptable, fast, tactical, enduring. Knows how to pick locks and lift wallets and hoard food that is least likely to be noticed. How to vanish, how to look real scary and real big, how to get stabbed and get back up, and take a fall, and bide his time. How to find north. Which makes for a good what? A thug, a conman, a drug runner, a loan shark or a hitter or a bouncer maybe? A guard, a killer, a thief? No love, no ties, no one. And only a borrowed, angry, violent sense of self, and all the other versions that didn’t live to adulthood but aren’t quiet dead yet buried beneath it.

God, the opening line to the original lore for Darkness Among Us really was beautiful and memorable. The kind of first line you hope for. “Frank Morrison was ninteen, and had little to show for it.” Like, fuck. It’s so understated, and common, and painfully mundane, but that’s it, that’s his whole life. And how fucking painful that is. To be the end of teenagehood, stepping into adult life alone, and be able to be summed up in just eleven words, as a marker of your lived timespan up to now, and the annotation that you from all of it have gained almost nothing that could be worth any note. I fucking love that line. God. It’s so empty, and cruelly mundane and undramatic and unimportantly scored and marked, like it doesn’t even matter that he’s down nearly two decades of life with nothing worth taking into the next two.

Lord, all the Legion kids really do need help, and therapy, and like, one decent parental figure. Thank god for Jeff. He really is out here doing the real work. Love that man. TuT

And you’re right w Adiris lol. 🤣 It’s a mix of cats and dogs, magbe even. Some of them aren’t trouble, but oh, oh some most definitely are. Side note: I fkn just reallly love cats. Poor Adiris out here tryin her best, and I’m sure she does too.

#ask #anonymous #in living memory (fic)#in living memory #dead by daylight

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stanning-seb-stan · 5 years

Text

Red - Bucky Barnes soulmate fic

Authors Note: This is the first time I’ve written anything in quite a long time. It came to me as I was washing dye out of my hair and also due to binge reading soulmate fics recently. Sorry for any typos or such as it’s unedited!!

~~~~

I let out a sigh that sounded more like a groan as I re-situated my backpack on my shoulders. My retail shift had been worse than normal at the grocery store and I was ready to be home. Not only had the weekly shipment been several hours late, two coworkers never showed up and I got yelled at by an elderly woman for my pastel rainbow hair being “too strange” and “unprofessional”. Too bad she couldn’t see my multiple tattoos beneath my uniform, but then again that may have shocked her to her grave. To top the day off, I still had to drop by Peter’s to help him with some research for his college classes.

It wasn’t that I didn’t like Peter. Peter was actually one of my best friends, along with MJ and Ned. But today I just wasn’t in the mood to deal with anything else in person. I needed a nap. Well, pizza and then a nap. I pulled my phone out and tapped the text thread nicknamed “Trio of Trouble” and quickly typed out a text to both of my best friends.

“Order pizza or im going home to zzzzz” I sent.

“Geez was it really that bad?” Came Peter’s response.

“A grandma almost went to an early grave at the sight of Y/N/N’s apparently wild hair. Pizzas already ordered, your faves” came MJ’s almost instant reply.

“Wait how does MJ know deets I don’t?” Peter’s text included a crying emoji.

“She works with me, dumbass,” I texted back, unable to help the small smile Peter’s dramatics brought on. Trust them to always make me smile even on my worst days. “Be there soon, just a block away,” I sent a second text, locking my phone screen and slipping it in my back pocket as I crossed an intersection, shoving my hands into the front pocket of my oversized tie dye hoodie.

A few minutes later I reached Peter’s apartment building and let myself in before starting to sprint up the stairs. By the second flight, I was out of breath and groaned at my own foolishness, slowing down and climbing the rest of the way to the fifth floor at a slower and slower pace. I was still out of breath when the door was jerked open as I lifted my hand to knock.

“Let me guess, you tried running up the stairs again like the dummy you are?” I was greeted by Peter’s wide grin.

MJ was rolling her eyes from behind him. “Ignore him, he may be my soulmate, but god he can be such a child,” she spoke up, turning and heading down the short hall to the couch in the living room.

My smile fell slightly as she mentioned soul mates. I tried to hide it before Peter noticed, but he was too quick. “You’ll find yourself one day,” he spoke softly to me, moving to follow his girlfriend.

I tried to give them a hopeful smile as I flopped onto the couch, reaching for the pizza box as I shrugged. “I mean, sure I’m the oldest of our group and y’all found each other years ago, but I still have my tattoo, so he’s at least alive?” I picked the slice of pizza that had an air bubble in the crust and shoved a bite in my mouth.

Every person was born with a tattoo on their right ribs with the first words your soulmate would ever speak to you. MJ and I had shown each other ours when we first became friends in middle school. Hers happened to say, “Hi, I’m Peter Parker.” So she at least had a name to go off of and had actually known she’d very likely meet her soulmate the day we started high school and roll was called. Peter’s mark read, “Yeah, dumbass, I gathered that from roll call.” They hit it off after that, and I stayed the loyal third wheel. Now, just about a decade later at age 24, I still had my tattoo but hadn’t yet met whoever my soulmate was. The words were still there, clear as the day I was born, so my soulmate had to be alive as the ink faded if your soulmate died.

My internal monologue was interrupted when Peter nudged my leg with the toe of his shoe. “Earth to Y/N,” he teased, making me realized he must have already called my name once. When I turned towards him, he tilted his head to the side. “What’s yours say exactly again?”

“I’ve always loved the color red,” I mumbled, sighing a bit and pulling my legs into the couch after kicking my tennis shoes off to reveal my socks that had llamas on them.

It was quiet for a moment as we continued to eat out pizza before MJ broke the silence. “You should dye your hair red next,” she spoke, her gaze lifting to me suddenly.

“I’m sorry, what? I’m not following here,” Peter’s voice broke in before I could respond. “Why would she do that? Rainbow is the Y/N/N classic.”

“I love you, but for an Avenger, you sure are dumb sometimes,” MJ teases. “She’d do it to catch her soulmate’s eye. If they like red enough to comment on it first thing to a stranger, then it’s probably their favorite color. So if she dyes her hair bright red, she’s sure to attract their attention if they’re nearby at all.”

I started to protest, but Peter didn’t give me a chance, “Oh my god that’s perfect. Forget studying, let’s dye your hair. May won’t be home for several hours so she’ll never know we did it here.”

“You usually get your dye from the shop down on the corner, I can pay if you don’t get your check until next week,” MJ glanced towards me, talking excitedly.

“Don’t I get a say in this at all?” I piped up, watching as they both got off the couch and started to grab their phones and wallets to head down to the shop.

“Nope, not today,” came Peter’s quick response as he grabbed my hand and hauled my ass off the couch. “Now get your shoes back on. MJ and I have to give you a makeover.”

————————

The subway slowed to a halt as I felt my phone vibrate in my back pocket. I reached for it, releasing my grip on the pole I stood beside. I unlocked it, tapping the thread with MJ to respond and let her know I was on my way to meet her for lunch. As I hit send, the train started forward again, causing me to lose my balance and fall backwards. I closed my eyes, waiting for the hard impact of the floor, but it never came. Instead, my back hit someone’s hard chest, causing them to let out a grunt of surprise. I scrambled to find my own footing again as the stranger’s hand caught my elbow and helped me stand. I could feel my face flushing in embarrassment, shifting to turn towards them and thank them when they spoke first.

“I’ve always loved the color red,” the man’s deep yet gentle voice spoke, his lips pulling into a cute lopsided smirk.

“Thanks, it’s my soulmate’s favorite color,” I responded before his words actually registered. It was awkwardly quiet for a moment then as we both stared, wide eyed and realizing what the other had said. “I’m sorry did you just say I’ve always loved the color red?” I repeated after a moment.

“Did you just say it’s your soulmate’s favorite color?” He quipped in response. When I nodded a bit sheepishly, he shook his head in amusement. “Damn. It could have been any damn color, but I guess fate decided it for us when I said I’ve always liked red, huh?”

I shyly grinned in response, nearly losing my balance again as the train slowed to another stop. His hand reached out to grab my elbow again, and my cheeks flushed red. “Hi, I’m Y/N. Sorry for falling for you,” I teased.

“Bucky,” came my soulmate’s response, small wrinkles of amusement forming at the corner of his blue eyes as he grinned again.

“Bucky as in Bucky fucking Barnes?” I gasped slightly.

“Technically my name is James Buchanan, not Bucky Fucking, hope I don’t disappoint,” he responded, a laugh etching his words.

“Damn, Peter always told me he thought you and I would get along. He’s going to think he played matchmaker or some shit now,” my laugh echoed his as confusion crossed his face for a moment.

“Wait, are you Y/F/N, the one the Parker kid always goes on about always ending up in the ER?” His eyebrows pushed together as he realized the connection between his teammate and I, and I grinned.

“Hey now, I’m not always causing trouble! I’m just clumsy and that doesn’t always pair well with some of our fun!” I attempted to defend myself, but fell towards him again as the subway lurched to a start.

“I’ll take your clumsiness anytime if it means you’ll be falling in my arms every day,” Bucky laughed, his blue eyes shining as he caught me again.

#bucky barnes red #bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader soulmate #marvel #fanfic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x reader #soulmate au #bucky barnes soulmate #soulmate fic

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hvlfwygod · 3 years

Text

ferry, capsized | lucien & linnaea & sefa & gabriele

summary: the twins find each other again. sefa and gabriele explore the woods.

He found him at the cabins well after sunset and begged everything else to shut the fuck up, shut up shut up shut up. He staggered, gripped a nearby tree for balance and took a few labored breaths, trying to steady himself. Then he marched forward as fast as he could and grabbed Sefa's shoulder.

"I know you took my sister," he said. What else? He wasn't sure anymore. "Where is—" And then he saw the person behind Sefa, and he shoved the man aside. She, more than anything else, he recognized. "Linnaea!" She was yanked into his chest and his arms went around her. Wasn't she far away? Lucien shook the thought away. It didn't matter because she was here. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Linnaea responded, quickly, as if to kick the lie out of sight. "How about you? They released you from the hospital? What happened?"

"Yeah," Sefa called out in agreement. "I'd also like to know why my friend was in the hospital but you're here now."

Sefa's question barely made sense to him, but Lucien flipped him off all the same. Then he leaned out of the embrace and scanned Linnaea's face with wild eyes. He paused, looking confused. "Can you not hear me anymore? I've been—" He shuddered and closed his eyes. "I— I don't— remember how but— I got away." He blinked as something else came back to him and he turned to glare at Sefa. "If you lay a finger on her again I'll kill you." Then he was back to his sister. "We have to leave."

“Leave to where?” she replied, eyes flickering between Sefa and Lucien.

"Anywhere," he said, gripping her hands even tighter. "We just can't stay here. How fast can you pack?"

“I don’t know,” Linnaea mumbled. “Luce, I... I think you need to stay away from me.”

Lucien barely acknowledged her as he scanned the crowd nearby for signs of danger. His expression changed three times before he looked back at her and moved his hands to her face. "Don't be stupid, I don't have time. Can you hear me if I talk to you or not?"

“I can hear you fine, that’s not the problem,” Linnaea contested. “Listen, there’s someone after you. After me. Both of us.” Linnaea struggled to simplify her situation.

Meanwhile, Sefa discreetly slipped his phone out of his pocket. His eyes darted back and forth between Lucien and the new text he was composing: Gab, why is Not Major harassing me at the fire pit?

"No shit, Lin. But I'd rather—" He paused, closed his eyes. "Lin, I don't have time. We have to go. There's someone after me here, too."

Gabriele replied almost immediately: I'm working on it. Try not to let him leave?

I can do more than try, Sefa texted back, his eyes now locked on the twins.

"Luce," Linnaea started. She spoke slowly and intently, her careful thought evident in her tone. "I don't think it's smart for us to be near each other. The guy who's after me said that if I go with him, he'll leave you alone," she explained. "So, if we're going to run, I don't think we should go the same way."

"What?" Lucien asked. The idea that this mysterious person could make them separate, and that Linnaea seemed fine to go along with it, confused him more than anything else. "Are you kidding me? No."

"Look how many people are after us! The guy who's after me doesn't even know Abel. He didn't even know this guy." Linnaea not-so-subtly gestured her head toward Sefa. "That means there are multiple search parties after us. If we stick together, that's like asking all of these people to team up against a single target," she pointed out, speaking more hurriedly now. "If we split up, they have to split up too, but we can stay in contact."

Again, it was like Lucien just remembered that Sefa was there, and he shot the man another dark look. He stepped toward him again, but took Linnaea's hand, keeping her close to him. "You're fucking lucky I don't have time for you, you piece of shit," he said, jabbing a finger in his direction. Lucien then noticed that he had a phone in his hand, and he started to move away from the fire pit and back toward town. Can we figure this out as we're walking away, please?

Fine, Linnaea agreed, too caught up in a swirl of thoughts to protest.

"Oy," Sefa called out to the pair. "Where do you think you're headed?"

"Fuck off," Lucien replied over his shoulder. He picked up his pace and pulled his sister along, not interested in anything else slowing him down.

Linnaea wracked her brain. She had talked herself into a corner by suggesting they split up. She didn’t actually have any sort of plan formulated, Linnaea was just talking out of her ass, trying to avoid spilling the actual truth of the situation.

They’re heading towards town, Sefa texted Gab. Hurry up, Im useless without the lake

When Sefa didn't do as he was commanded and continued to follow them, Lucien got angry. He paused for a moment, then without warning her, scooped Linnaea into his arms— this felt familiar but he wasn't sure why— and began to sprint.

"What—" Linnaea grabbed onto Lucien's shirt to keep from tumbling out of his grasp. "What are you doing?"

Sefa hissed under his breath and took off after them. He wasn't as fast on land as he was in the water, but Not Major had the handicap of carrying someone else. "Hey!" he yelled pointlessly ahead, as if it would slow Not Major down any.

I'm getting us out of here, he answered mentally, saving his breath so he could run as fast as possible. Tell me how to get to your place. We aren't splitting up. His eyes scanned the forest he only vaguely recognized, looking for a way to lose their pursuer. Is he still close?

Gab got to the fire pit in just enough time to see Lucien run off and Sefa take chase. He cursed, caught his breath, then resumed sprinting.

Linnaea hated the fact that she was familiar with this part of the forest. She hated even more that she was technically in the arms of the person she hunted down and killed in this part of the forest. "It's that way."

Once the tree line whizzed by him, Sefa was all but lost. "Hey!" he called out again, as if either of the twins would answer. He ran blindly ahead, dodging thickets and low hanging branches. He wasn't sure that he was still following Lucien but Sefa was compelled to keep moving forward.

Lucien changed course to go in the direction she pointed. Her lack of response to everything else grated at him, but he decided to focus on running and arguing with her later. Every frantic step was haunted by some memory that he couldn't quite grasp, but this too he pushed aside. His sole focus was getting away, outrunning some death that seemed to be guaranteed by even one more night here. By the time he broke through the trees and made it into town, his chest and legs were burning. Lucien slowed to a jog and sucked in a few gulps of air. "Now... where...?"

"Here, let me walk," Linnaea offered, tapping on Lucien's arm. "It's over this way." Linnaea's feet hit the earth and she started up the hill toward her apartment. "You didn't have to carry me, I could have run."

Sefa sat somewhere in the forest, panting for breath. "Fuck you!" he yelled out to Lucien, who was probably well out of earshot by now. Sefa silently cursed himself for not familiarizing himself with this part of the woods. "We're gonna find you!" Sefa threatened into the abyss.

"I'm faster," was all Lucien offered by way of explanation, following after her. "Tell me what's going on."

Gab followed the sounds of shouting and running through the forest, but he also completely lost track of Lucien. He would have lost Sefa, too, had he not nearly crashed into him mid-stride. He narrowly dodged and caught himself against a tree. "Merda," he exhaled, lowering into a crouch while he caught his breath. "Are you alright?"

Linnaea stopped walking and looked around. This dark spot between town and the woods actually felt more alone than any other location. "This guy is after me," Linnaea started, "because he wants me to take me away. He said he's a mercenary for other gods and that he somehow knows about how I brought you back. And now, for whatever reason, he said I have one of two choices. I can either go with him, forever, and become his lackey, or..." Linnaea looked away. "He'll kill us both."

"I'm fine!" Sefa yelled between heaving breaths. "Where—you took... So long!" Sefa jabbed a finger into the darkness. "They went... That way! Go get them!”

Lucien didn't like stopping, and he kept glancing around as Linnaea spoke. It was only when she finally explained the ultimatum that he finally looked at her, just as she turned her head away. "What?" He blinked, then shook his head. "No. Absolutely not." He took her face in his hands. "Neither of those things are going to happen. You hear me? We're us, Lin, we can outrun anything."

Gabriele let the jab roll off of him; he knew Sefa was even more upset than he. "I apologize. I'm—" He didn't want to waste time. Gabriele put his hands to his eyes. "Dea. Mi aiuti per favore." His hands curled into fists as angry words echoed in his mind. "Or not," he mumbled in frustration. "Keep searching," he said tersely to Sefa before he ran off again.

"Can we?" Linnaea felt like they had been outrunning death for months. For decades. "He said he would find us anywhere. He can teleport."

"We can," he said firmly. Maybe it was foolish, but Lucien wasn't bluffing or trying to make her feel better. "I... I got rid of him, Lin, and I can get rid of this guy, too. And if something else comes..." He lifted his shoulders. "We'll keep moving. We'll be okay. Okay?"

Lucien's question seemed rhetorical, but Linnaea still felt too uneasy to reply. "Let's just get back to the apartment. I can... Maybe I can pack quickly," she mumbled, realizing as she said it that was giving a soft agreement to his escape plan. "Maybe we can think this through."

To him, that was a yes. Lucien nodded and managed the tiniest smile. "We can. Let's go."

#lucien x sefa #luciensefa3 #lucien x linnaea #lucienlinnaea8 #lucien #gabriele x sefa #gabrielesefa1 #gabriele #major x sefa #majorsefa7 #major

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ca1e70-deactivated · 4 years

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a list of my entirely way too niche headcanons ive actually implemented for everyones imagination:

name options ive used and refuse to retire: david elizabeth strider (sometimes i dont feel like being a douche to others and saying thats not his name), harley davidson strider, and david james strider for the sake of simplicity

im not gonna tell yall the like. oc exes ive given him bc thatll take eighteen years.

i dont rlly have an explanation on the ghost thing besides the fact he just can? ive occasionally pulled from family ghost stories and experiences bc i somehow got landed with family members who lived in a haunted house for a decade and enjoy scaring me with all the stories (including the time my cousin literally died on the kitchen floor from a bronchial spasm and one of the friends that was over asked my aunt later what was up with the old man she saw in the corner of the room that night - my cousin is fine btw shes just a huge bitch and a third grade teacher and i dont like her)

whether or not hes done drugs is based on absolutely nothing besides how im feeling in that moment. either hes the designated driver and sober friend forever or he got fired from his job after doing a line at work during graveyard with some random customers theres no inbetween (this absolutely happened @ waho. if dave works at waho hes a mess of a person and thats on the diner itself.)

ok look i hc dave w/schizophrenia besides when i was 14 i had a hyperfixation with learning about it and then at 16 was prescribed a medication and had side effects so wack my therapist genuinely thought 14 yr old me was onto something and its a weird way to cope with the idea that lady put in my head that i might “develop it in my twenties” which i turn 20 this year and i havent been able to stop obsessing and panicking over the prospect so PLEASE dont come in my inbox calling me ableist im not out here all harley quinn in suicide squad with the voices ok hes medicated, he goes to therapy, the hard fast delusion that lil cal was nearly sentient and informed bro of every single thing dave did no matter how asinine it was is no longer a debilitatingly affecting him ANYWAYS

i actually use the chicken/egg farming family pretty often just because its hilarious to me to give dave like. an actual mom and dad. hes literally an uncle to like three different kids he just never visits because they make fun of his skinny jeans and he hates one of his (incredibly bare-bones ocs all of them) brothers who threatened to bash his head in with a little league bat after dave broke his star wars lego set apart on accident (but not rlly) so their parents were like “why dont you stay with your brother in the big city for a lil while champ” and then they just never picked him back up? and thats on favoritism

the other one is that his name is actually david reed and hes the middle child of a family of three who literally live the standard golden retriever white middle class life only they went to disney land or something equally as dumb one year when dave was like 6 and he wandered off so bro literally just went “huh free game” because frankly he was an idiot who thought maybe i should take this kid home because its real dangerous in parking lots and then it was too late to NOT have it seem like a kidnapping and thats why daves never had a summer job, seen his birth certificate, or gone to school. but vaguely remembers what kindergarten was like and having a pet dog and calling someone mom as a kid.

im not making a bullet point about his sex life headcanons just use your imagination and acknowledge the fact bro essentially worked within the sex industry and i enjoy putting dave through trauma as a catharsis

i stopped doing this one usually but if he did go to school hes been in percussion since fifth grade and played the drums in his high schools jazz band as well as various edgy teenager garage bands he likes to pretend dont have a youtube presence and that hes absolutely never been shirtless in front of plenty of his classmates because he wore a hoodie to a show like an idiot. idk occasionally ill put him in an actual band he doesnt hate but keeps separate from his lil turntechGodhead internet persona (which i will ALSO touch upon in a sec) until they wind up getting looped into a tour with some bigger named band that has a show in *insert beta kid here*’s city and hes gotta come clean solely so he can visit his online friend. sorry derseasterous thats the one time weve ever run into each other and i made him have a crush on one of his bandmates i was in my anti-daverose phase where i made dave a hoe and also didnt want to admit i still loved the ship all these years later

i hate it so much but you know the whole vr loli trap voice shit that was popular a while ago? hes fucking baller at it for some reason. he did it as a joke while talking to bro and they both about shat their pants. if im feeling real ambitious, hes got a separate soundcloud solely dedicated to doing dumbass rap covers or making his own but in the voice under the pseudonym elizabeth “beth” davids that he will never admit is his. well, he will, but hes gonna be really fucking embarrassed about it. irony or not.

talking abt seperate soundclouds and stuff ive always had it where turntechGodhead was his like. essentially internet fucking persona facade shit he used because we all had that phase where we wanted memorable urls and stuff but also didnt want to totally ignore the nagging fear of people finding you in real life, until it turned into real life ppl finding you on the internet. so he also has basically an adjacent set of social media under the same name but its just a boring username i havent decided on so everyone he knows irl doesnt mix up with what hes made for himself as TG and the people he knows as TG dont know what highschool he goes to. (this occasionally comes with the territory of ppl on parp being pissed that daves “lying” or “hiding things” from his friends as if he was doing it out of spite instead of just keeping embarrassing tagged photos and videos from football games or when he ate shit at the skatepark from fucking with his “rap career”)

every once in a while i get on a kick where hes just german. like, i just replace houston texas with hamburg germany and have him apply to a university in whatever state is applicable for whoever im chatting with and it goes from there? sometimes he moved when he was little and went through the whole visa thing, sometimes he didnt go through the visa thing, sometimes hes a dual citizen because of family and shit, its all dependent on what suits the situation best.

one that ive been fucking with for a while but hardly break out (until recently with like 5 roses in the span of one day hell yeah) is that he has a neighbor at the end of the hall who is like a thousand year old witch lady that hes basically adopted as his mother figure in lieu of not having one and shes totally cool with it, especially bc when she kicks the bucket she fully plans on giving dave all her occult stuff so her figure-skating coach and realtor daughter doesnt sell it at a garage sale and lets it all go to waste. she also once brought rose up by name in a conversation without any prompting of her existence which dave didnt realize for days, and then one time cryptically stopped and stared at an empty space in the wall, went “she has potential, you know.” then looked at him sitting on her kitchen counter with a smile “lots of it” and hes thought about that weekly ever since. (it is important to note one of the occult items he leaves her is literally her own personal book of shadows shes been filling out for decades its like a 600 page leatherbound book dave has no idea what its used for but the sheer amount of homemade spells and etc in it is like. gonna murder rose the second this chick gets her hands on it i promise you.)

theres the standard strife shit? im not rlly gonna get into those theyre all basically cookie cutter bullshit. its just standard bro and dave abuse talk. i like to inclulde the whole 24hr live cam up in the apartment that definitely watches dave in every room besides his own and the bathroom, but that quickly delves into the prospect of middle-aged men stalking him online and basically sexually harassing him in his own god damn home by talking about how they can see him just trying to take his shoes off in the living room after getting home and frankly? its not one of my best takes! but once you throw it into the headcanon bin, its there forever.

he actually really does do something with his photography but not enough to warrant anything exciting, but he has his own branding for it and regularly takes pictures of his friends or anything else he thinks is moderately interesting enough to take pictures of, but those are just thrown into shoeboxes under his bed in favor of posting genuine shots because he wants to keep his image intact and blurry photos of jade smiling in the tree they climbed up together while bec paws at the base of it while whining isnt exactly something he wants the whole world to see.

i also pretty often but him into either paleontology OR i put him down as trying to become a mortician because he thinks handing roadkill once he graduated from museum giftshop specimens to doing his own taxidermy on the side has prepared him enough to perform an occasional autopsy and start embalming real human corpses. (sometimes i put my own desires in and make them his bc i have to project at some point and put him through the same EMT course i dropped out of bc it was one semester and he already has pretty decent first aid skills, but he definitely didnt expect it to be as fucking wild at times as it is, but whats he gonna do? get a job back at waffle house? the company hes working for just offered to pay like half his associates in paramedicine tuition and hes already got all his pre-recs done when he started for paleo. at least its a stable job and hes got the ability to be compassionate in the moment)

im running out of things that ive done to the poor kid. OH

hes not a virgin he had a girlfriend all four years of high school (shes also one of his optional and designated exes plz keep up) and their relationship ends in one of two ways: she dies in a car accident a week before their high school graduation, or she stops talking to him entirely a week after their high school graduation until a couple years later she gets into (guess what) a car accident with her current wife/girlfriend and dies which leaves behind their daughter. who just so happens to also be daves daughter. her name is hannah and i love her like my own but no one ever likes her and thats on the conditioning of dirk. does dave end up taking her in? yes. shes awesome and the first time he takes her to the park to like run off some fucking steam she disappears for two minutes and dave is moderately terrified until she comes back holding a dead baby squirrel and thats the moment he realizes huh maybe things really do be genetic.

ok at the bottom of the list im gonna add the couple of times hes been a camboy which usually coincides with the live apartment cam thing and the amount of people in his dms calling him hot or whatever, but typically its more of a started the day he turned 18 and basically dipped around 20 in favor of showing up randomly with no warning to complain about a video game dick in hand because it gives him an outlet that wont annoy his friends bc this is the fifteenth time hes had a lot to say this week about a certain boss battle and also the comments fuel his ego and daddy issues.

the last one wasnt the bottom but literally unless its explicitly proven otherwise every time anyone rps with me there is the underlying fact dave strider was a goalie on his high school lacrosse teams all four years and (shocker another one) definitely had the hots for one of his teammates like major hots like first gay experience hots. like it was painfully obvious that teammate also liked him back hots. like one night at a team sleepover one of the other guys was like can yall just makeout and get it over with were fucking tired and dave really had the balls to be offended and ask what the fuck they were talking about while literally sitting halfway in the mans lap bc for some reason they had to share the same chair.

he is also guilty until proven innocent of being the worlds biggest loner outside of that sports team and even though hes literally a jock he still opts to eat his lunch alone in the hallway or something like that and has a tendency to leave girls on read, but bc hes got an in with the rest of the jocks hes basically drug around to plenty of parties and since hes conventionally attractive enough and popular in the aloof way that he is, hes got plenty of tagged insta posts and twitter directs and snapchat streaks going.

THESE WERE ALL NO GAME AND DONT INVOLVE SHIPS BC I LIKE TO KEEP MY OPTIONS OPEN AND THEYRE LITERALLY ALL BASED OFF RPS IVE DONE I HOPE YALL JUDGE ME ACCORDINGLY

#theres probably so many more i mean #ive been on parp for at least 5-6 years now #ive been on cherubplay probably the same amount of time #and my memory is totally shot to fuck but these are just what i know ive done in the last YEAR #or thought were wild enough to remember #i put it under a read more bc frankly its really fucking long #and i dont want this to represent me entirely #these are also heavily situational based and not like. emotion or reaction based much?#some of them are #i guess i could rename this to like. things ive done on parp #but theyre technically still headcanons a lot of them can coincide with whatever #so theyre not very specific situations #anyways #this took me an hour

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vyladromeave · 5 years

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Mr. Zvahl has updated!

Chapter 6: Forage and Found

(Read the full thing on AO3!)

(A/N: nbvGJDFSFSD THIS IS SO LATE IM SORRY. It was TECHNICALLY done like a week or so ago but it was under 1k words and i just couldnt Post It mnbdsfghfsd. ANYWAYS now its nearly 2k so hopefully thatll make up for the wait nfdsbghdjsf. i have been Neglecting Zoey so now you have to read So Much about my beautiful elf wife mndsfbhjsfdk. not much else to say, ill edit this if i can think of anything important. Also Once Again gentle reminder tht i would seriously reccomend reading this on ao3 instead because tumblr formatting makes the spacing Whack but whatever man u do u,,,, you do u,,,,,, dshjgsfd ANYWAYS Hope u enjoy!!)

They had been walking for some time now. She had explained on the way out there that the path used to be much clearer, but too much overgrowth in the area had made reaching difficult. It was still possible, it just took extra time. In their case, it had taken a good half-hour at least. (It could have taken longer, but he wasn’t too good at keeping track of the time these days.)

As they approached he wasn’t quite sure what to expect, but now that they were there, he realized it wasn’t actually that different from what he’d imagined. His only experience in portals were the ones that lead to the nether- it somewhat shocked him to see that this portal wasn’t much different. It was about the same size and shape, though the material was different and it gave off an energy that was much less malevolent. Even then, its aura made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, and it wasn’t even activated.

“The portal leads to the Irene Dimension. That’s where we believe Aphmau, and all those that went with her, are trapped.” she continued.

He looked to her, silently asking permission if he could get a closer look, although she didn’t seem to notice. He took it as a yes. He approached the portal to get a closer look while she talked.

“I’ve been working for nearly a decade to find a way to open it again. Nothing has worked so far, but I’m getting close. I can feel it.”

“How so?”

She was somewhat thrown off by how direct his question is. “I- well- when I first started working on this… I didn’t really know what I was doing? I was just throwing things together, I didn’t understand any of it. And now… well, there’s a lot I still don’t understand, I won’t lie about that. Emmalyn was our resident Irene expert, but we lost her to the portal too. But I’ve also learned- I know what I’m doing now, I know the end goal. I just need to figure out how to get there.”

He nods, though his focus is still mostly devoted to the portal. He understands what she means now when she said there was a lot she didn’t understand- if he was in Zoey’s place he wouldn’t even know where to start. It takes him a solid minute to recognize that no, those “scratches” he spotted on the portal are words, and in some language he has no clue of recognizing. He shakes his head. He would love to help out, of course he would, but he isn’t cut out for this.

“Well, you’re the barrier magicks user. If anyone could do it, it’s you.”

She sighs and nods. “I suppose so. I’m not sure if it’s a good thing, but it’s better than nothing.”

“Of course it’s a good thing. The town just needs to have faith in you.”

“It’s been ten years. There’s not much faith left to go around.”

“Well, what about you? Do you think you can do it? Bring them home?”

She pauses for a second, but nods. “Yes. I do.”

“Then that’s good enough for me. That settles it.”

She gives him a look and tilts her head, confused. “Settles what, exactly?”

“I think I’d like to stay here. In Phoenix Drop. At least until everyone returns.”

“Oh!” She smiles, but took another moment to process and “Oh.” Her face drops. “I- I mean that’s great, I’m glad you’d like to stay, but- this could take years. Decades. Centuries, even. You could be long dead by the time everyone is back here.”

“That’s fine. It’s worth the wait.”

She was startled by his ease in acceptance. “That’s- I mean- you could-“ she takes a breath to calm herself. “Alright. Welcome to Phoenix Drop, Mr. Zvahl.”

~~~

She had agreed to take him out to the portal if he would do some work for her in return. Nothing too strenuous, she wasn’t cruel, but it was nice to have help every once in a while.

For as good as he was in navigating the forest, he knew next to nothing about the plant life within it. Or plant life in general. She spent a solid ten minutes explaining to him what they were looking for, “Four leaves, notched edges, somewhat pointy at the ends. You’ll know you have the right plant if the base of the leaf is much thicker than the edges.” His understanding seemed to be shaky at best, but he didn’t want to waste more time when they were supposed to be gathering. And so he wandered north, she went a bit south, and hoped that he had at least a basic understanding of what they were looking for.

She hadn’t found too many- but she figured as much. It took some time to get to the better spots where the plant often grew in, which they had instead spent observing the portal (as if she didn’t spend enough time on that blasted thing already). So she paid it no mind when he was late meeting back up by a couple minutes. And then ten went past. Then fifteen. It was just enough time to make her start to worry when she’d spotted him returning. That was another odd thing about him, sometimes he was easier to spot with your eyes than to notice with your ears. He was oddly quiet, inhumanly stealthy. She’d wanted to say he was just good at that sort of thing, but what kind of person can disappear in a forest but can’t tell an acorn from a rock? Either he was oddly talented, or there was something even odder going on here, and it bugged her a bit too much.

Her mind was taken off the question when he’d stopped in front of her and she got a good look at him. She understood now why he was late- he seemed uncomfortable, and kept shifting the rather large pile of plants he gathered around. It was a bit hard to tell with the gloves he wore, but she swore she could see splotches of red creeping up his arms.

“Is this stuff we’re gathering… supposed to be itchy?”

And just like that, her suspicions were confirmed. “Well- yes, that is normal for that plant. But it’s also not the plant I told you to gather.”

“It’s not?” He said, looking down at the bundles of leaves in his arms.

“No, it isn’t. I sent you to gather lushsprout. The plants you’re holding look like poison ivy.”

A blank expression slowly grew on his face as he stared through the plant he’d gathered and into the middle distance. A look Zoey could only describe as regret took hold, and he dropped everything he had spent so long gathering as the name finally registered in his brain.

“One moment.” he said and rushed off in the direction of what Zoey could only assume was the nearest water source, a desperate attempt to wash off the red splotches that had already begun to form on his skin. Zoey couldn’t help but snort- it was the most emoted she had seen him ever, and yet it was all so comical.

Well, there was nothing comical about poison ivy, she supposed. It was mildly annoying at best, and painful at worst- but judging by his seeming unawareness she figured he would be alright this time. It would certainly make a good story for later, at least. They had done enough herb gathering for the day.

~~~

They made their way back to Phoenix Drop, recuperating at Aphmau’s house. He washed his hands and arms once again, as well as his gloves in order to make sure they were completely poison-ivy-free. (He’d gathered too much to be completely unscathed, but it was something he could deal with.) Zoey made him tea once again, and Vylad didn’t have the heart to turn her down. Of all the citizens of Phoenix Drop, he’d grown to like her and Dante the most.

She was kind and thoughtful, and understanding of his quiet demeanor. Where Dante often barged in and forced conversation, Zoey understood the importance of silence. They hadn’t physically talked much, though he discovered that he’d somewhat enjoyed just hanging out around her, helping her gather herbs, looking at her miniature garden, whatever trivial way they decided to pass the time. She was certainly more suspicious of him than Dante was (so perhaps she was smarter too), but Vylad figured it was justified and tried to not let it bother him much.

In a strange turn of events, he ended up the one to break the silence.

~~~

“...Just how often does Kawaii~Chan bake?”

“Well, she’s been doing it less often lately, since she’s got a child to look after now, but…”

“So not too often, then?”

She could’ve sworn he sounded almost disappointed. “Gods no, Kawaii~Chan is an unstoppable force when it comes to cooking. The day there is a force strong enough to prevent her is probably the day the world ends.”

She chuckled a bit at her own joke, Zvahl never laughed (or reacted much to anything at all, she’d noticed), so she did for both of them. Maybe it was a bit conceited, but in her eyes it let them both enjoy it, even if he was reluctant to show such feelings. “Why, were you hoping to get some of her sweets yourself?”

“Uh-”

“Have you ever even had her cooking? It’s very good, I’m just not sure why you’d be so interested…”

“Yes, I did. At that breakfast, about a week ago.”

“You’ve been craving her cooking for a week? ”

“Well-”

Any form of excuse was interrupted by more of her laughter, this time it was entirely for herself. Was he so reserved that it had taken him a week to ask about something as trivial as baking? She glanced over him once again to make sure she wasn’t missing anything- only finding what she decided was a hint of embarrassment. He opened his mouth to speak, and she nearly found herself laughing again when he closed it and glanced away.

She stifled her laughter to save him from any more embarrassment, and gave him a knowing wink. “Don’t worry, I’ll put in a good word with her for you if you want. She loves to bake after all- I’m sure she’d be happy to make you something.”

It was muffled by the scarf which most of his face had retreated into, but through the cloth she swore she heard him give a mumbled, “... Thank you...”

Perhaps she was wrong. He had plenty of emotion. Zoey would just need to learn where to look.

~~~

#vylad ro'meave #zoey taltatheil #zoey aphmau #aphmau zoey #minecraft diaries #mcd #Mr. Zvahl #aiki writes #aiki be like: *doesnt know what consistent formatting is*

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thegeminisage · 5 years

Text

alright im about to watch 5.03 of merlin for the 2nd time ever

because if i dont do it now i may NEVER GET ANOTHER CHANCE

but first i wanna get out of the way that i thought merlin convincing arthur to keep the ban on magic in 5.05 because he was trying to thwart ~*~destiny~*~ or whatever is the laziest writing ever, it’s unsatisfying for the audience, it renders the rest of the last season utterly pointless, it’s unfair to merlin and arthur, and the tonal shift of the show from farting trolls in season 2 to full greek tragedy in season 5 was completely unwarranted and i feel TRICKED as a human person because i expected the end to be bittersweet and make me sad, not table-flipping angry, and i do not at all have high hopes for the finale

but i can ignore something having a “bad last five minutes” i did it for life is strange and final fantasy 13-2 i will do it for merlin but honestly

speaking on 5.03, after it was over the first time i was like “i can never write my fanfic now because nothing i ever do will be as good as that” but i’m really relieved in that way that that was apparently the last good episode of merlin because now i can continue my work in peace and maybe hopefully even actually finish it

okay commence the liveblog:

love that arthur and merlin are down to just jump off their horses whenever random women start screaming in the distance. season 5 could have been so good, they’re so much more grown up and in sync with one another, i absolutely LOVE their #vibe

it was interesting to me also that arthur DEMANDED a fair trial for this woman despite her being accused of sorcery. god, he was SO CLOSE?? that hatred of magic just can’t really take root in him especially with uther gone...arthur may be an asshole in the early seasons, and he may be quick to anger and quick to lash out in that anger, but it’s just not in him to be cruel, especially needlessly

EVEN THIS LADY IS LIKE “u showed kindness and compassion” arthur is a Good Boy deep down he is he IS he didn’t care a bit about that horn she gave him but still politely said it was beautiful

although lmao the way his face changed when she said it was magic...that’s the STUFF

lowkey losing it at athony head in the credits. i was looking to see if he’d be in the s5 ones since he’s dead and didn’t see him in 5.01 or 5.02 so when i DID see him in 5.03 i was like haha no way did they pay to put him in here i guess i just missed him the first couple of times BUT I WAS WRONG

like, in buffy, they spend an entire episode trying to decide whether or not to necromance their mom or whatever and she doesnt actually APPEAR IN THE EP they never SEE her i thought this would be an episode ABOUT uther i didn’t think uther would be IN it

love that from the get-go arthur’s face screams “i am thinking about making a terrible mistake” and merlin’s face is like “he is thinking about making a terrible mistake”

i’m quite proud of merlin in s5 actually. bad writing aside he uses multiple braincells many times per episode. it’s a vast improvement. same energy as clary from shadowhunters right down to getting shafted in his final season

ive said it before and ill say it again gwen looks SOOO GOOOOD as queen

if this is the anniversary of uther’s death then (if you go by 1 season = 1 year) arthur just turned 30...it’s been nine years and change since merlin met him, and by the end of season 5 it will have been an entire decade

in an otherwise increddibly heavy episode arthur panicking and throwing all the apples out of the bowl so he could cover the horn with it is absolutely priceless. season 5 if nothing else has really hammered home for me what a TERRIBLE liar arthur is - merlin got good at it fast out of necessity but arthur can’t hold a poker face to save his LIFE. “leave it.” “why??” “because i’m telling you to and i’m the king of camelot” buddy......

we were ROBBED. if there had ever been a day where arthur came to accept merlin’s magic but still had to help merlin hide it there could have been an entire episode of arthur nearly blowing merlin’s cover because he’s a nervous nelly and at the end he goes “i cant believe you have had to do this 24/7 for YEARS without a single friend to help you” and merlin goes “well now i have you” anyway.

i love also that repeatedly when arthur goes to do something scary by himself he also brings merlin. they LITERALLY are two halves of a whole

“you’re threatening me with a spoon??” i can’t tell you about the unfortunate fanfics i have seen involving The Spoon. i shall also not mention the ones involving The Glove. we will not speak of it

I CANNOT BELIEVE STONEHENGE IS IIN MERLIN. i got so agitated i did not pay one bit of attention to the conversation following its reveal and me and cathy and had to rewind so i could listen properly

my hate-on for stonehenge goes thusly: stonehenge apocalypse, starring misha collins, is @callowyn‘s favorite movie. i have seen it 45 times. i hate it nearly as much as she loves it. it’s an age-old battle

merlin is so intense when he looks for signs in arthur that he DOESN’T totally hate magic...arthur using magic to see his dad again is one of those signs. he’s willing to turn to it in desperation - maybe he’d be willing in less desperate times too

“my father was taken from me before his time” i mean...he was practically in a coma. so like. he wasn’t

love that when arthur mentions merlins dad ONCE he immediately looks like he’s about to cry. mood. i also want to cry every time i think about merlins dad

up until the moment i laid eyes on uther i was SURE they werent actually gonna do it. i came into this thinking it was a FLASHBACK EP

for the record (and believe me i NEVER thought i’d say this) even though i waited and waited for his demise and cheered when he was gona for good...i really missed uther in season 4. at least with uther you know what you’re getting. agravaine (his replacement as “evil guy who keeps us from being able to solve our problems too easily”) was a slimy cowardly CREEP. and in season 5 i WISH things were as simple as “work around uther’s pigheaded unreasonableness”

for a hot second i really thought uther and arthur would have a nice conversation where they reconciled or said something heartwarming. i was worried about an uther redemption arc - this guy is responsible for the genocide of magic users, he doesn’t deserve redemption - but this show said NOT TODAY and they said it QUICK

ARE

BLESSED

i have A LOT of issues with season 5 but JESUS FUCKING CHRIST THIS WAS DADDY ISSUES 2.0 BROUGHT BACK FROM THE DEAD

repressed trauma returns: harder better faster stronger!! that’s the STUFF

was i not just speaking the other day on my fanfic ask meme about how i love emotionally intense stuff? this is IT babey

uther’s such a bad father! he’s with his only child again for the last time in ever and all he does is tear him a new one! this is why arthur’s such a fucked-up human being (morgana too)

i’m THRILLED we got to revisit this. his eyes get bigger and bigger and he starts fucking stammering and by the time uther’s done calling him weak and a failure he looks ready to CRY. i was HOLLERING. i still couldnt believe uther was even HERE and not only is he HERE he’s a WRECKING BALL

“this CAN’T be the last time i’ll ever see you” oh buddy you’re gonna wish it was

and he looks back, as he leaves. of COURSE he does. just like lot’s wife. so it goes.

you know how at the end of every supernatural episode sam and dean debrief and talk about their feelings in the car? for merlin and arthur it’s almost always done around a campfire at night - sometimes in arthur’s chambers or other places, but usually out here in the wilderness where it’s just the two of them. i’m...really going to miss it, when it’s gone.

“my father doesn’t approve of the way i’ve chosen to rule his kingdom” “you mean YOUR kingdom”

you know i don’t think i really got...like, fundamentally, on a deep level...that merlin fucking HATES uther

i’ve seen him save uther’s miserable life so many fucking times that i thought for merlin it was kind of the way it was with gwen - he feels nothing for him, but he looks after him for arthur’s sake (or as i came to understand later because he’s professor x about the whole thing)

but the way his expression got SO UGLY when arthur revealed that uther just shit-talked him the entire time...holy fuck

between that & some other stuff that happens later it really paints a clearer picture of like...uther’s dead so merlin doesn't have to hold back anymore and he FUCKING HATES HIM?? like obviously he SHOULD bu i just never SAW it before this. merlin LOATHES him. it’s INCREDIBLE to witness when he bore it so silently for so long. maybe even merlin didn’t realize just how much he hated him until now

and not to get too real here but if youve ever been friends with someone who had an abusive/toxic parent or was in an abusive/toxic relationship and you watch them feeling like shit after and they start making excuses for that asshole like “oh yeah he’s right about x” and you just want to find this horrible person and THROTTLE THEM that emotion is like ALL OVER merlin’s face rn. i didn’t actually seriously "”ship”” merlin and arthur until late season 4/early season 5 (i didnt like dislike it i just wasnt actively bothered by a lack of it) and what changed was this vibe. merlin wants to kill uther all over again just because he made arthur feel this way. he’s so fuckijng PROTECTIVE

and he still almost manages to drag a smile out of him via roasting, god bless these 2

ok so i didnt believe this show would actually DO THAT re: putting uther himself in this ep but i was doubly shocked by the fact that he HITCHED A RIDE AND GOT OUT

me shrieking during this entire poltergeist sequence: OH MY GOD OH MY GOD IT’S REALLY HIM?? HOLY FUCK HE IS LITERALLY HAUNTING ARTHUR I CAN’T BELIEVE THEY’RE DOING THIS I CAN’T BELIEVE THEY’RE GIVING US THIS etc etc etc

actually most of that was probably muffled nonsense because i was yelling with both hands over my mouth

percival’s the realest motherfucker on this whole show. dude survives a murder attempt in which he got an AXE lobbed at him by the fucking GHOST of a power-mad genocidal king and he’s like: yeah idk i guess it fell

there was thunder in the bg for this WHOLE ep and i’m Big into it

absolutely CACKLING at the bit where merlin has to ask arthur if he looked back at uther’s spirit. it’s one of those nice big heavy questions - so heavy, in fact, that arthur can’t answer, can’t even LOOK at merlin, either because he’s ashamed or because he’s bugging out or both. you thought this shit was over? it’s never over! daddy issues are a lifelong ride, pal! arthur’s just get to haunt him literally this time. god it’s so fucking good

can i just say? merlin reads that damning silence reeeal well. and it’s a big, heavy thing to know about arthur - but then again he knows all the big heavy things about arthur

the score for this episode is really good too...very suspenseful and good, adds a lot to the atmosphere, keeps it from getting too slow

there’s a hint of merlin’s absolute HATRED of uther in this conversation again - the way his face tightens when he says “uther would do anything to protect his legacy and that makes him dangerous, who knows what he’s capable of now”

and arthur dismisses him because he can’t hear this but merlin almost refuses to leave - and when he DOES leave, he doesn’t take his eyes off arthur for one fucking second. he stares him down all the way out of the room. i don’t think it’s because he’s angry with arthur, per se - he’s angry with uther, and he knows uther in a way arthur never can or will, as someone ruthless who will kill without warning or remorse. he’s afraid of uther and he’s trying to get arthur to be afraid of uther too before it’s too late and LSDKFJGHSLDFJH

if you’re thinking “thats a lot to interpret from one look” yes it is but i’m right. IT’S A BIG, HEAVY LOOK. NICE AND LOADED. love unpacking all of that

i cant believe this dude tried to KILL GWEN like he really is coming after everything that makes arthur happy. im so glad it was merlin that saved her. i really do think merlin is her best friend

multiple times in this serious arthur fidgets when he’s nervous or thinking, usually with his hands near his mouth. i am endeared to him. my poor boy

“i always knew my father could be cruel but why would he do this to gwen when he knows i love her” BECAUSE HE’S CRUEL

merlin knows. merlin knows his cruelty much better than arthur. boy does he know. i’m dying. it’s fine

love that at this part of the ep we slide seamlessly into the “merlin and arthur are both scared shitless” section which was truly one of my favorite things about the s4 opener. they’re both so fucking jumpy and giving each other shit about being frightened and continuing to be frightened anyway. the DELICIOUS IRONY of arthur finally being scared of uther in the way merlin has been scared of uther for Y E A R S oh my god it’s so GOOD

do also love the entire silent conversation they have when deciding what to do about the door. this is what i mean by their upgraded vibe.l in the early seasons merlin wouldn’t have understood and his lack of understanding would have been played for laughs. now they’re totally in sync

here’s the thing, gaius could have made this magic “able to see uther’s ghost” potion for just arthur and he didn’t. he made it for both of them. everything arthur does merlin does. they’re partners in all things. they’re COMPANIONS. and this is why i finally now Ship It. tragic.

you know this is a kind of weird comparison but late seasons arthur reminds me JUST a bit of gwaine. he complains so much less that he sort of has that same “roll with whatever” vibe to him. pretend to faint so you can steal some guy’s dagger? why not. take this foul potion that may kill us? sure, let’s do it. come what may he’s not really fussed. much more unflappable

until he starts getting spooked again LMFAO

we do love a good pair of spooked dumbasses. this is charming and entertaining.

leon HAD to know they were lying about poetry. he probably thought they were having.......a tryst,

love also that even in this very dire moment merlin does NOT miss the chance to have some fun at arthur’s expense. that’s true friendship

i got jumpscared three separate times during this ep and one of them was when uther was glaring down merlin and arthur in the hallway after leon left

arthur didn’t jump but he did go hunting after him and to his credit he does not look scared. he looks like a man who is trying to deal with his business and get his shit together

merlin made that FACE again when arthur expressed sadness at hunting his own father because all he ever wanted to DO was make him proud

honestly it’s like since he can’t shit-talk uther he just sings arthur’s praises instead like this here is a guy who is just barely holding his tongue about how fuckin pissed he is. i cant believe it

splitting up was the WORST idea. have they not seen scooby doo??

love that when merlin gets cornered by uther’s ghost and gets scared he yells for arthur and when arthur gets scared because his torch blows out he yells for merlin. you fools, why did you SPLIT UP

uther locks arthur in the room with him, which is already some top tier content, but doubly good? it’s the same room in which arthur nearly ran him through in 2.08. don’t think i didn’t notice. i did notice. i was shrieking into my hands.

seriously this is a pretty calm liveblog but the first time i watched this ep my face was like this the whole time: O O

just kept going “HOLY FUCK HOLY FUCK OH MY GOD” over and over. it was greeat

“arthur your fatal flaw is that you put too much trust in other people” do you think arthur, who now has a complex about people betraying him, ever forgot that for one second in his entire life afterward? me neither

speaking of 2.08 arthur dropped some FACTS “your hatred comes from fear” i'm sure they didn’t do it on purpose but #throwbacks

i’m fully experiencing human emotion. “i’m not you, i can’t rule like you did” he’s trying SO HARD to fight his way out of that bullshit

also lmao arthur like “then you’ll have to kill me” and uther like “yeah okay” arthur didn’t KNOW how this man was this could have been SUCH a good awakening

AND NOW IT’S TIME

FOR MY FAVORITE PART OF THIS EPISODE

when i say merlin hates uther. WHEN I SAY MERLIN H A T E S UTHER

HIS LINE HERE. ok. “get away from him, uther. you’ve caused enough harm” he’s furious! he’s GROWLING!

“you are just a serving boy” “i am much more than that” listen. human words cannot express the emotion that ran through me. when they said “we’re gonna bring back anthony head as uther” i doubted. when they said “he’s gonna be the bad guy and reopen all of arthur’s old wounds” i doubted. when they said “he’s still here LITERALLY haunting arthur who now has to HUNT HIM” I DOUBTED. i didn’t believe they’d do any of it until it was happening on my screen. but ONE LOOK at merlins face made a MOTHERFUCKING BELIEVER out of me. i knew exactly what he was about to do. pretty sure i gasped “NO” in astonishment

AND HE DID THAT

HE👏

DID👏

THAT👏

NOT ONLY. DID I SHRIEK ALOUD. FULL SCREAM. WHEN IT HAPPENED THE FIRST TIME. BUT JUST NOW. WHEN I WATCHED HIM DO IT AGAIN. MORE SCREAMING.

how LONG do you think merlin had ACHED to do that

to show himself to uther for what he was, what he REALLY WAS, someone to be reckoned with instead of someone to be overlookedd, without fear of consequences

i can’t even like

like just imagine the triple rush of 1. satisfaction 2. rage 3. lingering habitual terror

i think at this moment merlin was closer to and more like morgana than he had ever been and maybe ever will be again. because the two of them have so much in common but one thing i didn’t really clock until now is how much they both hate uther

it’s so good. uther is SHOCKED and DISMAYED and this is like merlin’s old fear come back from death too (getting found out by uther) while at the same time being a dream come true (getting to tell uther what he really thinks, who he really is - “i was BORN with it!”) he’s so ANGRY! he is LIVID!)

he’s also really SATISFIED like “even while you were king there was magic at the heart of camelot” GOD how long has he been WAITING for this and not even realized it

and like then uther starts spewing his hateful bullshit and stalking forward with the intent to kill and my guy merlin who should be terrified STANDS HIS MOTHERFUCKING GROUND and says right over him “you’re wrong, you’re wrong” for thirty beautiful seconds merlin really got to be free. i know i will keep comparing things to 2.08 until i die but it’s just like when arthur was almost ready to kill uther in cold blood because for one perfect, brilliant moment he really and truly saw clearly the world as it was. i really love these moments...the strength of their respective convictions is so gratifying

merlin yeeting uther through a door is also gratifying although i have no idea what he hoped to accomplish by following without waking arthur first

i. LOVE. that the camera lingered a little on the spears or whatever after merlin walked by them. nice little foreshadowing moment

THOSE SPEARS GOT AWFULLY CLOSE BUT IM PRETTY SURE UTHER MISSED ON PURPOSE BECAUSE HE WANTED TO TAKE HIS TIME. HIS MISTAKE

okay merlin spent the better part of a lifetime dreading uther’s death sentence and here’s uther stalking down a hallway sword pointed at his chest and certain death is IMMINENT and what does merlin’s face look like?

arthur comes in with the rescue and INSTANTLY his expression changes to?

IT’S BETTER IN MOTION BUT HE LOOKS READY TO CRY

my immediate thought: oh jesus what if uther outs him

i knew he wouldnt bc of spoilers but i would bet a benjamin that that was merlin’s first thought too

tbh. i wish he had.

i kind of wonder if merlin doesn’t wish the same thing. like yes being outed like that is terribly violating and he’s terrified of telling arthur obviously or he would have already but at the same time there would be so much relief once it was finally out. no more secret-keeping. no more burden

i mean, if you go back and watch it, dude’s straight up shaking. he’s trembling all over. he’s losing it. that last teary glance they exchanged.......

uther was two SYLLABLES away from blowing the whole thing

and in a better happier canon where arthur knows and was waiting for merlin to tell him this is like double angst because uther wouldve ben blowing something for them both

i like arthurs followup of realizing that he’ll never be able to please uther (step 1 of breaking away from the cycle of abuse) but for the LIFE OF ME

i will NEVER be able to understand why they segued into this GLOVE THING

i’m not talking about the glove thing

i will say however that by the end of this episode i was so hysterical i had to get up and get water and pace around my kitchen for ten minutes fanning my own face

and that’s it. that’s the second-best episode of merlin and the last good episode there ever was

#personal #merlin blogging #it took me three and a half hours to rewatch this episode because i kept pausing to scream #MERLIN DESERVES TO BE OUT TO EVERYONE ALL THE TIME it's not FAIR #that episode deserved to be 20 minutes longer it ended too soon #in a happier world arthur found out about the magic and immediately took merlin's side and defended him against the genocidal maniac but app #apparently this show is a greek tragedy now

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